Serendipity's Kiss
by Hearts of Eternity
Summary: Time has a curious way about it, always able to move ahead, sometimes leaving hearts behind. For Sam and Mikaela, they didn't realize how far behind their hearts really were until fate, in the form of well-meaning Camaro, intervened. Sam/Mikaela
1. Chapter 1

Finally, something that is **NOT** _WE _continuality! This is a story of its own, completely unrelated to the crazy epic expanding universe of WE. I've been craving a sabbatical from the rigors of that universe for a while, and since the love has been down for _As We Come Together_'s latest chapter, I thought that posting this little nibble of fun would be just thing to get my spirits back up!

Love to you all! Please read, review & enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

The arid landscape of the Arizona desert slipped by unnoticed as Sam sat quietly in Bumblebee's alt mode. They were alone on the abandoned stretch of ancient, crumbling highway, not another driver to be seen for miles. It was quite a relief really, since pretending to drive the alien Camaro was getting to be a terribly old act. They found themselves taking the scenic routes more and more often, if only to drop the old charade.

Absently, Sam checked his watch, sighing when it read almost noon. They'd been on the road since early morning, no breaks, and they still had a few hours to go before they hit their destination. Not that Sam was complaining. He knew that longer driving times were simply the price he paid in order for the both of them to relax and not put on a big show of pretending to be driver and car. In fact, he appreciated the long drives with his friend. In the sixteen years they'd been together, Bumblebee had learned the exact temperature that his human partner operated optimally in and adjusted the AC to suit that preference. They'd long since compromised on their differing tastes in music and settled for soft rock stations whenever they drove together, even going as far as to negotiate a reasonable volume at which said music could be played. Sam had also learned a few quirks of his friend, like why he hated driving through rocky regions on Earth because it reminded him of a planet he'd landed on and was nearly eaten by rock worms.

They were comfortable with one another.

No, Sam was merely sighing over the time because he knew he was that much closer to Phoenix and all its four million citizens.

Searching for something to occupy his time, he reached over to the passenger's seat where his cell phone had been tossed. With the energy of a sloth, he checked his messages, half listening to voice mails, flipping absently through his texts until he came across a few that were pressing enough to deserve a reply. After that, he shut the cell off and tossed it back to its seat. If anybody really wanted to get a hold of him, it usually was for a Decepticon attack, and, for that, they could contact him through Bumblebee.

Nothing much else to do except wait. Maybe he'd get some shut eye in hopes of giving him an extra edge when it came to dealing with the droves of humans that would undoubtedly be flocking.

A wry smile cracked his handsome face. _Sleep. _He liked the sound of that. He rarely did it any more. He considered it more of a hobby for when he had a bit of free time; something to do occasionally, but never on a regular basis. The effects of treating it as such were certainly starting to show. While Sam ignored the growing symptoms, Bumblebee watched with mounting concern.

"Sam, you really must stop doing this to yourself," Bumblebee sighed softly.

"Doing what?" Sam asked, feigning interest as he turned over in his seat to pillow his head against the window to prepare for a nap.

"You are exhausting yourself with this ridiculous façade you continue to live," the Camaro replied, chastising.

"Oh, _that_," Sam grunted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yes, _that_, Sam. You are only one person, and yet you are living two lives-."

"Batman and Superman do it," the human pointed out.

"They are fictional characters and you know it," Bumblebee countered firmly. "This is not fiction and you are not a superhero with supernatural powers-."

"Batman doesn't-!"

"_Nor _are you a multi-billionaire playboy with a penchant for vengeance and bats," the scout added pointedly, silencing his partner. "The reality of the situation is, this arrangement you have is taking a severe toll on you, and as your friend, I am getting wholly concerned for your well being."

"Please, Bee, I don't want to hear it this time," Sam groaned, giving the dash a light jab with his knee. It wasn't like he hadn't heard the _same_ spiel a thousand times before, from a dozen different people, humans and Autobots alike. They all seemed to harbour the same damned I'm-your-friend-and-I-know-what's-best-for-you complex. "Can't you just be my wholly _un_concerned friend right now?"

"No," the mech replied curtly, a crackle of static shooting through the speakers letting Sam know the alien had just snorted at him. "It is not just me who is concerned for you either. Everyone is. They have been watching you for years as you have thrown yourself from one thing to the next, going directly from battle into the next meeting into a research mission into a public appearance and then back into battle once more, and never once taking a break. This has been going on for over sixteen years! No one is built for that kind of stress, Sam, not even a Cybertronian."

Sam groaned again, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as the blazing mid-day sun scored into them. "I know that, Bee, I really do, but what else am I going to do? There's nothing else for me."

There was a brief moment of glorious silence as Bumblebee mulled the question over. He pondered over it long enough for Sam to hope that the mech had dropped the conversation entirely and simply opted for silence. Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky. Today seemed the day Bumblebee had chosen to rehash every issue they'd clashed on in the past.

"You need a companion."

A drawn out growl, bordering on whine, drifted from Sam's lips. "God, Bee, do we really have to go over all this crap right now? I really don't want to have to walk to Phoenix 'cause you pissed me off with bringing up this 'companion' shit again."

"You are thirty-four years old, Sam, and yet you have failed to progress any further with any female of your species beyond that of mindless, detached sex. Trysts at best, and none of which have lasted any longer than a month or two."

"They would have been shorter than that, but it's really hard to say 'fuck me and then get lost' to a woman's face and still have her come back to your hotel room," Sam grumbled acidly.

"Sam!"

The human dropped his gaze stubbornly, chastised by the harshness of Bumblebee's reprimand. It wasn't often that the scout lost his cool. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm just irritated. I haven't had a lot of sleep, you know that."

"I know, I know; it's fine. I shouldn't have snapped, either- I'm sorry, as well. I was not expecting you to be so crass," Bumblebee amended. He sighed and pressed on with the previous issue they were hashing out. "You know I try my best to stay out of your "love life," or lack thereof, but you are in the prime of your short human life and all you have to show for it is an empty house and a miserable double life. For Primus' sake, Sam, your only friends are aliens and soldiers; anyone watching can see you're miserable."

Sam snorted. "Then don't watch. I'm fine the way I am."

"You are not fine," Bumblebee argued. "You are alone, miserable, and frustrated-."

"Gee, thanks for the warm fuzzies, buddy-."

"You don't even have a female in your life at the moment for gratuitous sex to take the edge off. I'm not even sure if you have female friends or acquaintances, aside from Sarah Lennox."

With another sharp jab of his knee into the dash, Sam scowled dourly. "Like I said, I'm fine living the way I do. I don't need anyone else to make me happy, female or otherwise."

The keening noise Bumblebee's engine made could have equated to a human whine of exasperation. "Then simply for relaxation purposes only, you could allow me or one of the other Autobots to-."

"No!" Sam was quick to cut off the suggestion he knew was coming before he had to hear it. "There is no way in hell I am ever going to take up one of your guys' twisted offers to screw a female hologram "_just to take the edge off_." I am not that desperate, nor am I that pathetic."

"You did that one time with Bluestreak," Bumblebee pointed out.

"I was drunk!" Sam countered emphatically. "And I thought the chick was human! Your holograms can be damn convincing when you want them to be!"

Bumblebee sighed expansively, sinking on his wheels. "I could fabricate an attractive female for you…" he offered quietly.

"I'm sorry, Bee, but you're my best friend and I simply don't see you that way, hologram or otherwise," and then as an afterthought, he said, "Thanks for offering, though."

"I still say you need a companion," the Camaro pouted. "A vacation, at least."

"And I say you should mute it and let me sleep," Sam shot back, rolling over and hunching slightly to get comfortable.

"Fine, I will allow that much," the mech acquiesced stubbornly. "But, after this stint, will you at least promise me to take a break? Some form of relaxation so that you do not work yourself into the ground."

"I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."

"Fine. You give me no choice but to reinstate my old title as your guardian and enforce some semblance of a vacation on you," Bumblebee threatened. "Effective immediately."

Instantly, Sam was up and wary, eyes narrowed at the dash. "You wouldn't dare."

As if in reply, a series of choking coughs sputtered from under the hood, the engine suddenly cutting. Amidst Sam's raging cries of _"No! No, no, no! No, don't you dare do this to me, Bumblebee!"_ said alien robot coasted off the deserted highway, coming to a dead stop on the shoulder in the middle of nowhere.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Sam whined, cursing fluently in several of the languages he'd picked up over the years. "Dammit, dammit, dammit, no! Not now! Please, dammit, Bee, just get back on the fucking road!" His answer was silence. The robotic alien could do a pretty good impression of a real car when he wanted to. "Why?! Why now, of all days?!"

Frustration from living several high-tension weeks in a row was released in a series of seizure-like attacks on Bee's interior as the human kicked and punched and flailed at anything he could land a punch on. The Autobot took the abuse easily, barely feeling the blows. It ended with a single, aggravated moan as Sam's forehead fell to Bee's wheel and he simply let the horn scream.

"I hate you right now, buddy. I hate you and I will never forgive you."

Still, Bumblebee remained mute and stationary.

He didn't know how long he sat there, blaring the horn at the hot, arid desert as the AC's cool presence slowly seeped out of the cab, only to be replaced with dry, searing heat. Sometime long after Sam's miniature breakdown, a gentle rapping came to his window.

Surprised, Sam's head shot off the wheel and the horn ceased. Blinking his eyes back into focus, he was a little stunned to see the image of a scrubby old man standing on the other side of the window, white hair wild about his head and brushy eyebrows drooping low over his bright, clear blue eyes. He looked quite relieved to see that Sam was moving. Seeing that he was making the motion to roll down his window, and knowing Bumblebee wouldn't make it easy for him, Sam simply unbuckled himself and stepped out, nearly floored by the immense wall of heat that hit him in the face.

"Good ta know ya ain't dead, sonny," the old man said happily, clapping Sam on the shoulder with a hard, wrinkled hand, seemingly unaffected by the sweltering desert heat. "Heard ya 'fore I saw ya, and boys was I thinkin' ya were a goner out here."

Sam paused for a moment, appraising the stranger carefully. He was old, thin, though still vibrant with the sort of aura that only came from a full life lived. He was in a pair of faded jeans and a worn denim shirt, the pocket on the left breast embroidered with "_Oscar's Restoration Garage- we make old things new again_."

Probably under the impression that Sam was suffering from some form of mild dehydration or desert madness, "Oscar" leaned in close and squinted up into Sam's eyes concernedly. "Ya sure yer alright, boy?"

Finally finding his voice, Sam nodded firmly and replied. "Yes, I'm fine. My car just broke down and I think I was having a minor breakdown myself." He gave a sheepish smile that he hoped convey his mild embarrassment over the situation.

The old man suddenly smiled. "Happens ta the best of us," he assured. "I know a thing or two 'bout cars myself. Mind if I have a look?"

A little amused by the offer, Sam nodded and stepped aside for "Oscar" to have his way with Bee. The old man definitely knew what he was doing, circling once before whistling impressively. "'09 Camaro Concept," he commented approvingly. "Flawless condition, fer something this old." He popped the hood and bent over the steaming engine. "Ya buy this thing old or did ya just have it a long time?"

Sam, despite himself, grinned. "My first car, sir," he replied, patting Bee's roof.

Gruff laughter sounded from the man. "Good fer ya, boy." There was some fiddling going on under the hood, even though Sam knew the metal in there must be scorching under the heat. "I see ya updated the internals, though."

"I scrapped gasoline for hydrogen fuel cells a long time ago- figured it was the safest way to go before that whole crisis over the oil fields drying up," Sam replied, knowing full well that his "car" ran off something ten times better than either gasoline or hydrogen.

"Smart boy, too, aren't ya?" With a grunt of effort, the old man straightened and shrugged. "Can't see nothin' wrong with it from here, but, if ya like, I could hook 'er up ta the truck and tow 'er back ta the garage. I'm only a bit down the road and I'd be more than happy ta take a closer look at 'er."

Sam leaned against Bee's side, weighing his options. "I was hoping to be in Phoenix by five," he said, sighing. "I have reservations."

"Ah, well now, that _is_ a problem." Tugging lightly at a stray lock of grizzled hair, the old man seemed to realize something important. "Oh, hey now, fergot ta introduce myself!" He stuck his hand out. "Name's Oscar, son, Oscar Vautz."

Grinning, Sam shook the offered hand. "Sam Witwicky."

Oscar tipped him a toothy smile. "Well, Sammy, my boy, we'll just hitch yer car up right nice an' get 'er back ta the garage. We'll figure out the rest of the details then. Right now, it's just best ta get out of this heat 'fore we both cook our brains!"

Faster than what Sam thought the old man capable of, Oscar had Bumblebee hooked up to the rickety tow truck in minutes, and both men were comfortably seated in the cab of the old Ford as it bumped along the deserted road. Sam only felt half guilty as he listened with one ear as Oscar happily chatted away, while the other half of himself cursed Bumblebee out to the nine levels of hell for pulling his stupid stunt in the first place. This was something he might have pulled ten- fifteen years ago. Not now. Not after sixteen years.

True to Oscar's word, his shop was only a little bit down the road- half an hour at most. It was a classic place; small, old, and a little ramshackle looking, but welcoming in a way that brought one back to a time of ice cream parlours and jukebox dances. What Sam assumed to be Oscar's house sat attached to the side of the small garage shop, in the same dusty, ramshackle condition, but just as friendly looking.

Pulling into the small lot before the shop, Oscar fussed over Bumblebee while Sam offered any help he could. Soon enough, Bee was backed into the garage right next to the most magnificent '67 Pontiac Firebird Sam had ever seen, in the process of being restored and shining seductively in a coat of hot cinnamon red.

"Looks like lil' Mick ain't here at the moment," Oscar commented, already preparing to get down and dirty under Bumblebee's hood. "Maybe if yer nice ta 'er, she'll hop ya lift ta Phoenix," he said, winking. "She's a right fiery young woman, but she's got a soft spot fer handsome things like yerself." He laughed an old, rough laugh, the lines in face deepening. "In the mean time, there's a couple of bottles of water in that fridge over there- if ya wouldn't mind grabbing one fer yerself and me, we can get right started on this car of yers."

Finding himself more and more amused by this Oscar fellow, and hoping beyond hope that he was handsome enough to impress this "lil' Mick" to give him a lift, Sam did as he was asked and sunk himself up to his elbow's in Bumblebee's parts.

* * *

The first thing that caught Mikaela's attention was the sound of the Vautz's ancient Ford trundling closer. Next to her, Gloria Vautz hummed and shook her head. "Looks like he's back," she sighed, as she always did in a way that Mikaela could never tell if she was happy or disappointed.

"At least we won't have to put lunch on hold," Mikaela replied, stirring the soup she had been dragged out of the garage to assist with. From beyond the door in the kitchen that led out into the garage came the sounds of a car being backed in, and then the deep murmur of male voices, revealing that Oscar had not returned alone.

"No, but we'll probably have to set another place at the table," Gloria said, rolling her eyes as she, too, recognized the sounds of a second presence in the garage. "That man is always bringing home all the strays he finds, damn him."

"He just has a big heart, is all," the younger woman replied, smiling softly. She had once been one of the strays Oscar had happened upon, finding her baking on the side of the road after bailing out of her at-the-time boyfriend's truck after a vicious fight. He'd taken her home and Gloria had offered dinner, and then they'd set her up in the loft above their storage barn in the backyard for as long as it took to get back on her feet. That had been three years ago, and she still didn't have the heart to leave. "He just wants to help everyone who looks like they need a hand."

Gloria, a woman who was as down to Earth as Oscar was up in the clouds, clapped her hands on her apron to clean them of the flour that had accumulated from the biscuits she'd just finished. "Oh, he's got a big heart alright, Mickey, it's that little brain of his that I worry about." With as much energy as she had in her youth, the woman began to bustle about setting the table for four. "Why don't you go summon that husband of mine and his new friend before they get buried in all that junk and don't want to come out."

"You sure? You don't need any more help?"

"Go, go," Gloria ushered, waving her hand dismissively as she poked through one of her cupboards for the better plates she used when guests and strays showed up.

Smiling amusedly, Mikaela hopped to the door and eased it open, ready to dig Oscar out of the latest engine he'd dragged in from the desert. Instead, she froze. Her honeyed eyes shot wide as they took in the make and model, and especially the paintjob of the car that now sat in the garage. On its own, a hand came up to cover her gaping mouth.

It. Couldn't. Be.

As her racing heart overpowered every other sound in the near vicinity, Mikaela's eyes dragged from the robot she knew was sitting in disguise smack dab in the middle of the garage to the man that accompanied it. Her mouth went as dry as the scorching desert. His back was to her, bent over the engine as he chatted comfortably with her landlord/boss. She traced the broad shoulders, chewing her bottom lip as her eyes dropped over the smooth muscles of his back, displayed nicely through the worn white t-shirt he wore, tapering down to lean hips and long, strong legs. He'd filled out nicely since last she'd seen him, the tight, tanned muscles of his arms and back corded tightly to the bone like steel bands, flexing in a way when he moved that caused a strange tingle to ignite in her lower abdomen.

This was _not _the boy she's walked away from sixteen years ago. The creature she was staring at now was _all_ man.

She must have made some audible noise in the doorway, because suddenly Oscar's head shot up and he focused on her with one of his friendly, toothy smiles. He raised his hand in greeting, about to call her over, which caught the other man's attention, causing him to straighten and slowly turn around.

_Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh- hot damn! _

The years had done him good, that much Mikaela could see.

Age had transformed his face from its adorable, endearing boyish looks to a face that could charm the clothes off a nun. His chocolate hair was kept in much the same cut he'd worn in high school, close enough to the head to prevent those rampant curls from growing into a wild afro of curls. But his face- oh, his face had aged, the jaw hardened, cheeks becoming tanned plains of flesh that stretched over high cheekbones and a straight nose; smooth brows shadowing dark brown eyes that appeared nearly black in the dusty light.

On their own volition, her gaze dropped to take in the rest of him, all six-foot-two of him. Hidden strength compressed into tightly corded muscles; still lean, but not in an awkward teenaged way. His body had grown, matured, filled out. Not the bulk she'd once sought in high school, but a quiet strength compacted into a long, sinewy body. She could see the deadly, hidden strength oozing off him like an aura, making her legs, and a couple other things, quiver.

But, of all that, it was his eyes that captured her, eyes she still remembered from high school- sixteen years older and yet still expressive, still deep. Her breath was stolen a little by the new intensity of them, the foreign darkness, but the familiarity was hard to miss. She was a little shocked to see his eyes roving over her in much the same fashion that she was ogling him.

Oscar, sweetly oblivious to the new tension surrounding the pair, simply grinned and waved. "M'dear, come on over so I can introduce ya ta my new friend here-."

"Sam," she breathed disbelievingly.

"Mikaela," he replied in the same breathless tone.

Oscar's bushy eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Well now, ain't that a surprise!"


	2. Chapter 2

A quick note: yes, I am still working on As We Come Together and all other associated expansion fics, but I already have up to chapter 4 written out for this fic so I figured I might as well post chapter 2 now. I'm really surprised and happy at how well the first chapter did. Thank you so much everyone who reviewed!

**Bunnylass: **I'm always so excited to get reviews from you for my WE series- you're always such a happy reviewer! I'm so glad that you like this little fic of mine. I hope I updated soon enough for you!

**Asia-chan: **I'm happy to hear that I got you hooked! Hopefully the second chapter lives up to expectations!

**Elita One: **It _is_ a small world after all, isn't it?

**Bluebird Soaring: **It's so awesome to hear that you like my WE series, because I definitely enjoy hearing from you in the reviews. And I'm so happy that you're interested in this new fic- I know it's a little unique, and probably going to end up very mature in the future, but hopefully you love it all the same.

**Ladyofthedrgns**: lol. Bumblebee might not be as floored as Sam, but I'm betting he's definitely amused right now.

**Deirdre**: Next installation coming up! Hope you enjoy!

**Lecidre**: Oh wow! The praises from you practically make my heart sing! I'm so happy that you like this new fic! I can't believe you've never read a fic that officially has a Sam/Mikaela pairing! Oh well, there's a first time for everything! Hope you enjoy!

**Chloo**: Well, Bluestreak was only trying to help Sam out…

**Silveriss**: Everyone needs a little change in pace once in a while

**Violet**: My God! Cudos to you for the immense review you left! All dedications and love to you! I'm a romance novel fiend myself, since everyone needs a little bit of fantasy once in a while to get away from the disappointments of reality. I'm definitely using that genre in writing this little fic You really blew me away with the praises in your review- you are simply the best!

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, Cyndi Lauper's "Time after Time", The Medic Droid's "Fer Sure" or Whitney Houston's "I will always love you."

Since I probably won't have time to post anything else any time soon, I'm going to put a very special dedication here now:

_In loving memory of my boyfriend Matt, who died October 13__th __of last year. Rest in Peace, lover boy_.

**Chapter 2**

When Oscar had straightened up to wave to whomever had caught his eye, Sam had no idea who he would be turning to greet. Least of all did he think he would come face to face with a blast from his past, especially one with whom he'd shared some of the most intimate nights of his young teenaged life with.

Even the memories were enough to stir the embers of arousal in the pit of his stomach.

He allowed himself to straighten to his full height, painfully physically aware of the female standing frozen in the doorway across from him. He tried to swallow, suddenly finding his mouth as dry as the desert around him. She was… God, were there any words in any of the languages he knew to describe what he saw? _Perfection_, maybe? _Sex incarnate_ might work better. One thing was for certain, even with the deer-in-headlights looks she was giving him, she was still the most beautiful, sensual creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

Behind him, Bumblebee suddenly chose to act as a sentient being again, his radio switching on softly so only Sam could hear-

"_If you're lost, you can look- and you will fine me  
__Time after Time…" _

Sam snorted quietly, giving the Camaro a warning tap that instantly silenced the arrant radio. This was no time for Cyndi Lauper. Not when he had a sexual _goddess_ standing in his midst. The music springing to mind at the moment was more along the lines of The Medic Droid-

"_Kick off your stilettos  
__And fuck me in backseat  
__Fuck me in the backseat…" _

Of course, that was just the wishful thinking of a libido that had been on hold for several weeks while he was tossed from battle to battle. He shunted his mental-playlist before the songs got any more encouraging.

As he tried to focus on her, he saw her gaze wander, dropping, tracing. A smile quirked his lips; if she felt he was free for perusal, then why deny himself? His own gaze traced her face first, remembering a pair of honeyed eyes that would make him weak in the knees every time he saw them- they were lonelier now, shaded. Her pert nose was still the same, still a turn on, and her full lips, slightly parted at the moment as she openly gaped at him, looked as delicious as ever. Her long, earthen-brown hair was swept back into a haphazard ponytail, loose hair tangled and strewn about her head carelessly.

After taking his sweet time assuring himself that the woman he was seeing was real and not some cruel apparition, or worse- a hologram put on by Bumblebee, Sam's gaze slowly started to fall to the lush body he had had the pleasure of knowing intimately many times in the past. The grubby grey wife-beater she was wearing was smeared black with grease from working on the Firebird, fitted to her body from accumulated sweat and grime. The front had scooped low from years of stretching, offering a generous view of the most mouth-watering breasts Sam had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

He traced the delicate inward curve of her waist, and- _Oh, sweet Mother of God!_ He attempted to swallow once more as he traced the flare of her hips, right down to her thighs and long tapered legs showcased by a pair of jean cut offs. She might not have grown an inch since he'd seen her last, but she'd obviously come into her full womanhood since then.

Given the unholy amount of time since he'd last had a proper roll in the sheets with a woman, Sam was sorely tempted to take the woman right up against the wall. Make up for lost time. The thought alone stirred his blood hotly, surprising him by the intensity of the urge. He gave himself a hard mental shake, reigning in rampant thoughts- grinding the woman up against the way before even saying 'hello' was plain bad manners.

Oscar's raspy voice suddenly filled the too quiet, too tense garage. "M'dear, come on over so I can introduce ya ta my new friend here-."

"Sam," she breathed. His name sounded too good on her lips, like coming home after a _long_ time away.

Automatically, he could feel his own lips moving, daring to say her name as if it were a spell. "Mikaela." It surprised him to find how comfortable her name sat on his tongue.

Oscar's expression was an odd mix of amusement and surprise as his eyebrows disappeared into his hair, hands clapping together loudly. "Well now, ain't that a surprise!"

Mikaela nodded weakly, her gaze still trapped on Sam. "Yeah, quite the surprise…"

"I'd say," Sam smirked.

For a moment, it looked as if Mikaela was going to back right out of the garage, but she steeled herself and crept in further, leaning against the far side of the Firebird. Never once did her eyes leave Sam's face, but her expression was slowly turning from open surprise to something more guarded, as if she were trying to gauge his presence. Finally, when no immediate answer came to her, she turned to Oscar with a teasing smile.

"Never thought you'd drag in a stray I'd know," she laughed, playing off the awkwardness that oozed between herself and Sam.

"Life's funny like that, m'dear," Oscar chirped, eyes twinkling. His wrinkled hand pat Sam's shoulder. "Guess this means introductions aren't needed, huh?"

"Hardly," Sam chuckled, offering Mikaela a smouldering look that made her gaze falter for a moment. Her nostrils flared, glaring, and then looked away.

"Mind if I be askin' where ya know each other from?" The old man was nothing if not curious.

Sam paused long enough to allow Mikaela the chance to explain, but when her silence remained, he filled in. "High school," he informed smoothly. "We're old… _friends_." He certainly didn't miss the way her gaze flashed to his for an instant, maybe wanting to correct him. Instead, she shrugged.

"Yeah, just old friends."

"Ain't that nice," Oscar praised. "Guess that means Gloria'll be settin' the table fer four fer lunch t'day!"

"Oh, I forgot- that's why I'm out here! I got completely side-traked!" Mikaela exclaimed, laughing at her own distraction. "The soup's ready and waiting for us, and Gloria just put some biscuits in the oven for us. If we don't hurry, she'll have your hide on the wall."

"Far be it from me ta deny that woman's cookin'!" Oscar exclaimed as he marched his way to the shop-house entrance. "I'll give you two a moment ta catch up out here. Don' think of rushin' or nothin'- food'll be there when yer ready. Time yer time, nice an' easy," he said, under the impression that he was doing something very kind for them. Displaying further pseudo-kindness, he closed the door on them for privacy.

As soon as he was out of ear-shot, Mikaela let out a hiss. "Damn him..." Leave it to Oscar to find the one man on the entire planet that made her feel like imploding and melting into a puddle at the same time. Was her luck _that_ bad?

"It's good to see you again," Sam murmured, his voice shivering along her skin like a physical caress. He took a step forward. She instantly took a step back.

"Sam, I-." She searched for the right words to fend him off, to tell the ghosts of her teenaged past to go blow it out an exhaust pipe, but the words didn't come. All that really came was a painfully hot awareness curling in the pit of her stomach, as if ever molecule of her body was reacting to him.

Bumblebee gave an impatient honk of his horn.

"Mikaela, I've missed you," he said, drawing all attention to him. A delighted gasp shuddered past Mikaela's lips as it was finally confirmed that the Camaro really was Bumblebee. Forgetting about Sam, she slipped around the Firebird to bolt for the alien's side, leaning over to offer a hug as best she could.

Sam, for the most part, looked more than a little irked that his advances were interrupted, but only until he turned around to see Mikaela bending over to present Bumblebee with his hug. After that, he was quite a bit less irked and a little more irritatingly aroused. Much like the rest of her, her rump was the epitome of sexual allure; rounded but firm, in the most beckoningly delicious heart-shaped form he'd ever bared witness to. He took his time admiring her, leaving mental space set aside for what he would do to an ass like that if he ever got his hands on it.

She, for the most part, was ignoring him and his admirations.

"I've missed you, too, Bumblebee! You look amazing!" She laid a few kisses along his roof. "God, you have no idea how much I've missed all of you! It's been way too long!"

"The sentiments are returned by _everyone_, believe me," the alien replied warmly, though there was a certain, strange emphasis on 'everyone' that caught her attention. "We've all missed you terribly."

"Everyone?" Her gaze flickered to Sam's form lingering where she'd left him.

"Everyone, yes," Bumblebee confirmed.

She nodded, offering a warm smile for Bumblebee's sake. "I've missed them all, too." Disengaging the hug, she trailed along Bumblebee's side to his front, peeking under his open hood. "Forgive me if I'm breaking any intergalactic code of etiquette, but am I able to ask you something- as an old friend, of course?"

"Anything, Mikaela," Bumblebee replied warmly, prompting her question amiably.

"Why, _exactly_, are you here?" she asked, going over the hydrogen-configured engine that she already knew had nothing wrong with it. The tension that had built between her and Sam slowly released the longer she ignored him and focused on Bumblebee. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he'd go away.

"I broke down," the alien responded, sounding convincingly innocent.

"Is that so?" she pressed in mock-suspicion. Her hands roamed from one chrome engine part to the next. "I wasn't aware that alien robots could break down like normal cars."

"We can," Bumblebee informed her with the utmost believability.

"I don't know if I should believe you," Mikaela teased, far more friendly with the alien than she was with his human partner. Said human partner was finally tired of being ignored.

"You should. Bumblebee doesn't like to lie." Two arms appeared around her, hands laying flat on Bumblebee's hood, trapping her between alien and the very familiar, yet unfamiliar, man behind her.

"That doesn't mean he can't." The wall of heat radiating from behind her was a little distracting.

"You're right. He can tell a good one when he wants to," Sam admitted, laughing softly.

The vibration of laughter through his chest galvanized her. Her fingers tightened minutely on the ledge of Bumblebee's hood. "So, if I ask _why_ you broke down, am I going to get the truth or a story?" she enquired cautiously. Whether she was asking Bumblebee or Sam was unclear.

"The truth," Sam informed for Bumblebee. The Camaro wisely remained silent for the duration of the exchange.

"What would the truth be?"

"Maybe he's been going without something for too long and it finally caught up with him," Sam suggested.

"That sounds like a story to me," Mikaela pointed out.

"It's the truth," Sam assured.

"Then if he needed it so badly, why didn't he get it before now?"

Sam closed his eyes, letting his nose hover above the crown of Mikaela's head to breath in her scent, a mixture of fruity shampoo and vanilla soap. "He didn't realise he was missing something important until he needed it the most."

"Why now?" she dared ask.

He pressed a breath closer. "Why not?"

Her breath stuttered for a single moment before she slipped under his arm and quickly put as much distance between herself and Sam. Where was the funny, sweet boy she knew- the one who stuttered and blushed every time they got intimate? This sexually overt man was quickly becoming more alien to her than Bumblebee was.

She had to get a breath of fresh air, take a step back. She had to lay down some rules before they did something they both would regret.

"Sam, I don't know what this is about, you being here and all, but I'm not getting mixed up in all this again. Not the war, not the aliens, not... not you. Okay?" Her body was suddenly silhouetted by the blazing noon light flooding the open garage door. Sam had to squint to see her as she shook her head. "I can't anymore. I just can't." Her gaze flickered to Bumblebee for a moment. "Nothing against you, Bumblebee."

"Don't worry, I understand," the alien assured her.

Sam finally relented, raising his hands as a sign of surrender. "Alright, I get it. I'm sorry, I got carried away."

She scrubbed her hands across her face. "You think?"

"It's just been sixteen years-,"

"Exactly, _sixteen years_. We're practically strangers now." Her arms wrapped around her torso, Sam's gaze drawn to the way it emphasized her chest. "Some people have _bubbles_, Sam."

"You're right. I'm sorry for not respecting your personal bubble," he apologized, though the sincerity was marred by the roll of his eyes. Since when did Mikaela ever have a bubble?

"Thank you," she said pertly, promptly backing up another step to discourage any further bubble invasions that may occur.

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do now. He wasn't used to females of any kind shutting him out like this; he was used to warm welcomes, hot mouths, not cold shoulders. "I guess we were both just acting on impulses, right?"

"Yeah, just impulses" Mikaela affirmed.

Bumblebee issued an electronic snort, promptly switching on his radio- _"And I Will always love youuuuuuu!!"_

Sam choked on a sudden laugh, swinging around to land a whack on the alien's side. "Not now, Bee!"

Mikaela rolled her eyes. "You still have the weirdest taste in music," she sighed to the Camaro. Not to mention the most unusual timing.

Seeing that Bumblebee's minor interference served to relax Mikaela a bit, Sam dared a step toward, only to have her tense and take a half step back. Sighing, he planted his feet, understanding that, despite the obvious arousal that darkened her eyes, she was still to wary to let him near.

"You won't be here long, will you?" Mikaela asked suddenly. She flinched when she heard the slight twinge of desperation tint her voice.

Sam shrugged. "I wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for the idiot over there." Scratch the back of his neck, he offered a hapless look that made his charming face look a little more like the boy his once was. "I guess I could call someone to come get me, but waiting for them will make me miss my reservation…"

"You could always stay here," Bumblebee offered innocently.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Sam growled at him, eyes narrowing. A thrill shot through Mikaela at the thought of Sam being around for a few more hours, god forbid he even stay the night. She wouldn't last that long!

"We'll figure something out," Mikaela offered, chewing on her bottom lip as she pondered the quickest way to escape from Sam's presence.

"I guess," the man sighed. "Come on, let's get inside before Oscar thinks we've run away on him." Without thinking, he reached out to take Mikaela's hand, only to have her jerk back, away from his touch. His brow furrowed in confusion; he could understand her not wanting to get snugly with him, but refusing to touch him at all. "Why do you keep doing that?"

_Because I might spontaneously combust if I don't? Because I don't think I could take your hand on my skin without jumping your bone? Because it's been three years since anyone remotely as sexually potent as you has been near me and I can't be held responsible for what I'll do the moment your hand touches me?_ All very good reasons, in Mikaela's opinion, but Sam quickly drew to different conclusions as she kept her silence.

A slight frown marred his face. "Is this… is this about how things ended?" he asked quietly.

Suddenly it felt like a giant bucket of ice had been dumped on her. In her mind's eye, sixteen year old memories were blooming- a hospital bed with a boy laying near death in it, burned, broken, barely breathing… She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself. Yeah, that day probably was big part of why she wouldn't let him touch her; she did something awful that day and still hadn't quite forgiven herself.

A physical tightness erupted in Sam's chest the moment he saw the fear creep back into Mikaela's lovely eyes. While his reaction took him by surprise, he was more surprised by the strength of the urge he suddenly had to go to her. He resisted, of course, trying to respect the distance that Mikaela was imposing between them.

Finally, Mikaela found her voice. "Yeah, I think it has a lot to do with how things ended." As opposed to her voice moments before, she sounded subdued now. Her gaze no longer met his.

Sam shook his head. "That was a long time ago."

"It doesn't change what I did."

"We were nineteen, you were scared. We both were." Sam reasoned.

"I still walked out." Seeing him there, in that bed, hooked up to so many machines… Something finally broke inside her. She didn't want to risk her life like that. She couldn't risk her heart like that, knowing that either her life or Sam's could be cut short at any moment. She'd left that night and never looked back.

"Nobody blames you for what you did," Sam assured. His first encounter with Soundwave had left both him and Bumblebee in severe condition. It had taken several years of intensive rehabilitation to get the human back to normal. Not once had Sam ever blamed Mikaela for leaving when she did.

"I do."

"You don't have to." It had only been ten minutes ago that he'd laid eyes on her and already he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her. Just hold her. He may have healed from his injuries, but it was obvious that she was still suffering.

Unable to help himself any longer, Sam took a step towards her, frowning when Mikaela crept a step back. "Don't make me chase you," he warned. Her body tensed, but she said nothing. He was quick to overtake her, enwrapping her in his arms and pressing her lithe body to his chest. Mikaela's body suddenly jerked as if her knees had given out, Sam's arms tightening in response, supporting her. A long, shuddering breath rattled from the woman's lips, fanning hotly against the plain of Sam's torso. Standing there, like they were, they just… _fit_.

Sam's lips lowered to the crown of her trembling head, brushing the tangled hair there. "You left because you were scared. Everyone understands. We were only teenagers at the time, they couldn't expect anything more. I recovered. I'm okay now." His arms tightened a fraction when her body trembled violently, on the verge of tears "I'm _okay_."

"Sam-."

"I forgave you a long time ago," he said, shushing her. He was taking a stab in the dark at this, hoping he didn't get a punch in the stomach for overstepping boundaries again.

Her eyes closed before unwelcomed tears could fall. "I-." She didn't argue him this time. She didn't want to. A decade and a half of holding on to a grudge against herself and all it took was hearing those words to let it go. She managed to say a shaky, "Thanks."

"No problem."

He could feel the heat radiating off her body. The trembling that shook her. She felt small in his arms, smaller than what he remembered, fragile. And yet she was perfect, every curve of her pressed against every hard plain of him. It caused something primal to stir in him, wanting to offer comfort, protection.

A shock ran through Mikaela's entire being when she felt soft lips on the crown on her head. A kiss. Not sexual, but soothing. She pressed her cheek to his heart, feeling the steady beat, breathing in his warm scent.

"I missed you," she whispered almost breathlessly, revelling in the feeling of having strong arms around her. This was new and different, yet old and familiar. Three years since she'd been held so tightly, protectively, in the arms of another. _God,_ she missed the feeling. "I missed you. _A lot_," she breathed into his t-shirt, her lips moving gently against the worn cotton.

"I missed you, too. _A lot_," Sam replied earnestly, surprised by the sincere truth behind those words.

Mikaela allowed herself to giggle a little, hugging Sam a little tighter. Just then, when he's spoken, he'd sounded like the old, sweet, a little awkward but cute Sam she remembered, not the burdened adult he was now. She leaned back, taking in his face, guarded and sincere. So handsome. Acting on memory alone, she leaned up and laid her lips on his. It was barely a kiss, more like a peck- no, not even a peck; a touch. She touched her lips to his.

Nothing had ever felt so right in her life.

It was so silent in the garage it was impossible to miss the release of air from Bumblebee's vents, sounding suspiciously like a contented sigh.

Mikaela was quick to realize what she was doing and ended the kiss far too soon. Sam's arms tightened fractionally for a second before loosening once more, letting the woman slip from his arms as she backed away.

"Um- wow," Sam breathed, slightly bemused. He'd been kissed many times before, but never had he been quite so swept away.

"Uh, yeah…" she searched for something to divert the awkwardness. She hadn't meant to kiss him. Not like that. Not at all. There was something new in Sam's eyes as he looked at her now, and it made the yearning in her heart all the more stronger. She took his hand carefully, lightly. "Come on, I bet Oscar and Gloria are probably wondering what's taking us so long."

"Oh, right, Oscar…" He didn't sound like he was in a rush for lunch.

Mikaela led the way to the door, regardless of whether or not Sam wanted to follow. She paused before leaving, glancing back at Bumblebee's waiting form. Was it just her, or did he look particularly content for a Camaro? "Sorry for excluding you from the conversation, Bee," she said earnestly. "I'd invite you in, but…"

"It's quite alright, Mikaela. I'd activate my holoform if I wished to join you, but I'm quite happy to sit here for a while."

"Are you sure you'll be okay out here?" she pressed.

"Oh yes, I'll be fine," the yellow-painted alien assured happily. "Take your time with lunch. Enjoy catching up."

Sam offered a million-watt smile that made Mikaela's heart do funny things. "We'll do our best," he informed his partner gladly before suddenly taking the lead into the Vautzs' home, tugging Mikaela in after him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Theshadowcat: **Well, at least you found the second chapter, right? Hope you like the third!

**Elita One**: Smell is definitely one of the best ways to remember, especially since it's connected to our memory centers in our brains, or so I heard from somewhere...

**Bluebird Soaring**: Sam really has been through the pit and back in the last few years- it's been rough being in the middle of a warzone. Although, that song you suggested- I heard it before and looked it up on YouTube- it sure does suit the situation, doesn't it? xD

**Ladyofthedrgns**: That's really sweet to hear about your boyfriend and you. Best of love to you both!

**Bunnylass**: Don't worry about a thing- you made perfect sense! I really felt the love coming through, which is all that counts! You're a real sweetheart! I always look forward to your reviews!

**Lecidre**: I'm so glad that you're liking this fic so far! Hopefully the love will carry on! Sam and Mikaela have plenty more shenanigans to get into before this fic is over!

**Litahatchee: **Awwww, thanks! You're such a sweetheart! I'm glad you think this fic is good!

**Chapter 3**

Sam groaned, tracking the progress of the soup laden spoon to Mikaela's mouth, watching carefully as her lips wrapped around the small, slightly tarnished silver utensil. The look of pure bliss that crossed her face as the flavours played across her tongue nearly had him throwing her on table top and doing things to her that would elicit the same expressions. It was pure torture, in the best sense of the word. Watching her mouth move, catching sight of her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips, tracking her throat as it moved delicately as she swallowed. The images and possibilities he dreamed up as he watched her were damn well going to be his undoing if he didn't reign himself in quick!

Had he known it would take this much self-control just to sit beside the woman, to watch her doing something as sexually inviting as slurping soup, he would have asked Bumblebee to step in for him instead. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd asked his alien best friend to pose as his holographic lookalike so he wouldn't have had to do anything as torturous as _this_.

What were best friends for, right?

Mikaela paused as she brought her spoon close to her mouth, first to blow on the steaming vegetables and broth, and then shoving the spoonful into her mouth and chewing stubbornly. Finally fed up with Sam's hypnotized staring, she shot him a hard glare.

"_Stop it." _

A slow, easy grin stretched across Sam's face, knowing he was getting to the woman as much as she was getting to him. "Stop what?" he asked, mirroring Mikaela's whisper. Despite the serious tone their encounter in the garage had taken, he now felt the need to have a little fun with her. She looked like she deserved a little teasing.

"You know what," the woman snapped back, barely keeping her voice down.

While Oscar remained happily oblivious, Gloria's eyes darted up once, eyeing them carefully, before returning to her meal.

Mikaela shot him a warning glare, so much like the ones she used to send him when he would invite her over to his house for supper when they were teens and he would try something underneath the table. Back then, it had been teenage boy antics- trying to grab her hand, nudging her feet with his, but Judy and Ron Witwicky had always inspired Mikaela to act a little more proper than what she was used to and she was loath to the idea of ruining their opinion of her.

Now there were no parents to impress, just a pair of old folks looking after her, and her own pride not letting her give into the fun she knew Sam could offer.

"You better stop it if you know what's good for you."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "If you ask Bumblebee, I really _don't_ know what's good for me."

She scowled in response. He grinned like the Cheshire cat.

As if remembering the same mischievous things he had tried beneath tables with her, Sam's elbow discreetly stretched out to bump Mikaela's arm. At first, she passed it off as just an accident, but the second touch was undeniable on purpose, lingering against her skin so she could feel the heat radiating off him, barely able to get a feel for the raw strength his body held. It made her mouth go dry, but she was determined not to play into his games.

"Lay off," she mouthed to him, still glaring.

"No," Sam mouthed back before taking a bite out of the warm biscuit he'd stolen from the basket in the center of the table.

At least she knew Sam's sense of humour hadn't grown up with the rest of him. She sighed, resigning herself to her lunch. That was, until a strong thigh suddenly moved up against hers, rubbing a jean-enclosed leg to her exposed thigh, her cut-off shorts offering no protection from the sizzling sensation that shot straight to her core. She hissed, catching both Gloria and Oscar's attention.

"Ya okay, Mick?" Oscar asked, peering at her curiously from beneath his voluminous eyebrows.

Mikaela cleared her throat pointedly, nodding. "Yeah, fine- burnt my tongue, is all."

Oscar gave her a look of sympathy, accepting her answer and diving back into his meal.

Gloria, the sharper of the two, kept her gaze for a little longer, some unspoken knowledge glittering in her old eyes. "You may want to be careful, Mickey. That soup's hot."

"Yeah, I know," Mikaela replied through gritted teeth.

"I could help you blow it," Sam offered helpfully.

"Not on your life," Mikaela bit back. To ensure that Sam got the message, her hand fell below the table and curled into a fist, darting out to strike the man on the thigh dangerously close to an important part of his anatomy. He instantly tensed, sensing how close to imminent danger he was. Their gazes locked for an instant, a silent exchange taking place.

"_Are you going to leave me alone now?" _

Sam swallowed hard, shifting his chair a good half-foot away from Mikaela's. _"Yeah." _For now, at least.

Once the first round of soup was finished off in continued relative silence, the second round became a little more enlivened as Oscar got his bearings and started to pester Sam to find out a little more about him. It wasn't until a mouth-watering lemon meringue pie was set down in front of everyone that the old man hit his stride, peppering Sam and Mikaela alike with the ifs, whys, and wherefores of every single detail of their relationship. He wanted to know the what, when, and how; what started it, when they started going out, how long it lasted, how serious they were, where they went on dates.

Gloria was a little bit more considerate, remaining quiet for the most part, rolling her eyes every time her husband wasn't looking. The Q&A session over easily lasted an hour.

Mikaela, by now used to Oscar's usual exuberance, simply smiled and answered as truthfully as their cover story would allow. Obviously she couldn't tell the Vautzs' about the aliens and their war, but there were loopholes here and there when she could hint something relatively close to the truth. She could say something in reference to a certain group of "friends" of theirs, and both she and Sam would exchange a look and laugh at the private joke as if their prior animosity had never existed. They'd say something and exchange glances, smile discreetly. Someone would relate an old injury, raising their hand to indicate the spot, and the other would raise their hand too, as if to brush the invisible scar, to ease the nonexistent pain. Without meaning to, without even realizing it, they slipped into familiar actions, a comfortable intimacy where they were able to touch and smile with ease. Actions like those would catch Gloria's sharp eyes, her expression turning more curious with every private gesture her tenant and the strange man shared.

By the time dessert had been finished off and dishes piled into the sink, the four of them moved to the small living room; Gloria somehow subtly coordinated the migration so that Sam and Mikaela ended up on the tiny loveseat together, their bodies firmly pressed against each other due to the absolutely ridiculous size of the miniature piece of furniture. The forced proximity between them was like a stroke of fire igniting under their skin, galvanizing them. They suddenly remembered how very attractive the human sitting next to them was.

Coffee was brewed and offered, which they drank reverently, hoping to drown themselves in the rich drink before they became so physically aware of each other they spontaneously combusted. If the desert heat was any indication, spontaneous combustion was a definite possibly.

Gloria sat down again, her eyes moving to fix Sam with a measuring look.

"Now, Mr Witwicky-,"

"Please, call me Sam."

"Of course, Sam." She smiled briefly. "What is it, exactly, that you do for a living?" she asked.

There was a moment of brief surprise that struck both Sam and Mikaela, not by the question itself but by the suspicion that was behind it. It was thinly veiled, like a mother asking the man dating her daughter exactly what his intentions were. Mikaela shifted nervously, unsure of what Sam would say, while Sam recovered quickly and gave a charming smile. Unconsciously, his hand moved to Mikaela's thigh to give it a reassuring squeeze, letting her know he had it under control- the movement seemed so natural to him that Mikaela wasn't sure he was aware of him doing so or not. Nevertheless, she calmed fractionally.

"I'm a writer," he said smoothly, with the right amount of charm and warmth, conveying that he was a man who enjoyed his job.

"Really?" Gloria replied, impressed. She sat back in her faded chair and reached over to pat Oscar's worn hand on the arm of the rocking chair next to her. "Did you hear that, Oscar, you picked up a writer. How interesting."

"Eh? Well then, what'cha write, Sammy boy?" Oscar asked, full of curiosity once more. "Some of those who dun' its? Or is it more o' them there hot steamies, eh?" The old man winked playfully.

Mikaela swivelled her head to peer at Sam, curious of this supposed job as a writer he had. It _had _to be a cover story. There was no way in hell the boy she'd known with the chicken-scratch writing, who complained every time they had to write anything in class, could _ever_ become a writer.

"I mostly write science fiction, actually," Sam replied, completely at ease with the story he was weaving. "Something along the lines of aliens, robots, and intergalactic wars."

"Sounds interestin'!" Oscared hooted.

"Now where in the world would you get the idea to write stuff like that?" Mikaela asked, holding back laughter. Cover story or not, could he be any more unoriginal?

Sam shrugged. "You know what they say about fiction imitating reality, or something along those lines," he said cryptically, eyes sparkling. "My readers seem to appreciate my books regardless of the origins of their inspiration." And suddenly reminded of his original plan for the day, he checked his watch, groaning at the time. "Speaking of my readers, I have a book signing scheduled for tomorrow, which is why I had to be in Phoenix tonight for the reservations. If I don't get moving soon, I'll miss my suite at the hotel."

"Oh, 'course! Completely slipped my mind!" Oscar exclaimed, leaping from his seat. "Can't be havin' ya late fer nothin', boy! Just got so sidetracked with havin' some nice company an' all." He turned to Mikaela just as Sam rose from the loveseat and offered her his hand. "So, how's about it, lil' Mick- ya up ta drivin' this friend of yers all the way ta Phoenix? It'd be a real helpin' hand ta him, I'm sure."

"I…" With the look Oscar was giving her, all sweetness and imploring, coupled with the warm strength of Sam's hand holding hers ransom as he tugged her to her feet, Mikaela dropped her head, shaking it in defeat. "I guess so," she relented.

"Knew I could count on ya in a pinch!" Oscar cheered, grinning madly. "Such a good girl!"

"Thanks, Mickey, you're a life saver," Sam said, thoroughly outlining the torture Mikaela was in for during the next two hours of her life by laying a soft kiss to her cheek- igniting more than just embarrassment in her. Giving her a perfected smile, Sam took a step back and said, "I'll have to call a friend of mine before we leave. He'll be around as soon as possible to pick up my car once it's fixed."

"Go ahead and use the phone in the kitchen, dear," Gloria offered. Mikaela's eyebrows rose in surprise- Sam must have made quite the impression on the old woman for her to be allowing him to use the phone. Normally when a stray came in, they were allowed one free meal in the house but were then forced to stay out in the shop and use the grubby phone out there.

"You sure? It's long distance," Sam cautioned.

"Oh, it's not a problem, Sam. Feel free." She waved to him with a dismissive hand, making it obvious that he wasn't allowed to refuse her hospitality. As soon as he was gone, leaving Mikaela standing frozen and a little dumbstruck in the middle of the room, Gloria turned her gaze to the younger woman. "He's quite the charmer," she commented.

"He always had a sweet kind of charm about him," Mikaela replied, feeling the curls of heat finally rescind out of her body with Sam out of sight. "I never thought he'd turn out that like that, though. He's so…"

"Hot?" Gloria offered nonchalantly. She was old, not blind.

"I was going to say different, but hot works too," Mikaela answered ruefully.

"There looked to be a lot of chemistry between the two of you," the old woman pointed out.

"Old chemistry," Mikaela informed her.

"It didn't look so old to me. Mind you, I'm no chemist by a long shot," Gloria replied, tipping her head slightly.

Mikaela ducked her head a little. "…I guess I didn't realise how much I missed him until now," she confided.

"I wouldn't imagine," Gloria replied, smiling sympathetically.

The younger woman sighed, sagging. She glanced towards the kitchen where she knew Sam was lurking. "I don't know what to do."

Gloria pushed out of her chair, walking to Mikaela's side and taking her hand, patting it kindly. "Well, my dear, I am quite the firm believer in second chances."

* * *

Sam leaned carefully against the expanse of wall next to the old phone he was using. He hunched slightly, shielding the mouthpiece as discreetly as he could to keep his voice from carrying without making it look like that was what he was doing. His body felt unusually tense, not just irritation stemmed from Bumblebee's untimely stunt, but tense in anticipation of the two hour drive he was about to embark on with a blast from his past that made him feel things he hadn't felt in a _very _long time.

He waited a minute or so for the phone to pick up, and on what felt like the hundredth ring, the phone was finally picked up and a young voice chimed through-

"_Hello! Lennox residence!" _

"Hey, Billy, it's Sam. Can you put your father on the phone?"

"_Uncle Sam! Yeah, one minute, I'll get him!"_ Billy exclaimed enthusiastically. Like every other child who had to summon another to the phone, Billy didn't even bother to cover the mouthpiece when he shouted, _"DAD! UNCLE SAM'S ON THE PHONE!"_

Sam flinched away from the painful volume, able to hear Will's answering shout and Annabelle's yelled order for Billy to stop screaming, she was studying. Seconds later, the phone was taken up by the head of the Lennox brood.

"Sam, what a surprise! I wasn't expecting a call from you until later. You get to Phoenix alright?" Will asked genially.

"No," Sam replied flatly. "In fact, I didn't make it at all."

There was a pause, and then Will asked, "Is everything alright? You weren't attacked, were you?"

"Nope, not an attack- at least not a physical one," Sam answered. "I'm pretty sure Bumblebee's using mental warfare on me, though."

"What makes you say that?"

"Bumblebee broke down," Sam informed through slightly gritted teeth.

"Bumblebee _what_?" Will exclaimed disbelievingly.

"Broke. Down." Sam reiterated. "You know, like he suddenly decided he was going to stop working in the middle of the damn desert."

"Oh my God... He hasn't done something like that in years!" Will laughed. "You okay? You didn't end up killing each other, did you?"

"No one's dead," Sam sighed. "Not yet, anyways. Give me another hour or so and I might reconsider." Leaning forward to peer through the open door into the garage where Oscar now merrily chatted to himself over Bumblebee's engine, Sam issued a disgusted snort. "Damn thing's playing ignorant Earth car now."

"Well, they _are_ robots in disguise- the title wouldn't be worth crap if they didn't know how to sit still and shut up," Will reasoned good-humouredly.

"But does he have to do it _now_?" Sam growled, causing Will to laugh.

"What made him breakdown in the first place? I thought you two had to be in Phoenix by five- he wouldn't just let you miss an important timing like that unless he had a really good reason."

"In a nutshell, he broke down out of some twisted sense of moral obligation to me as my "_guardian_"-," he used the term spitefully. "Somehow, he equated in that screwed up CPU of his that I needed a vacation for my health and decided the best way of doing that was by leaving me stranded in the middle of the fucking desert."

"Cybertronians sure have a strange way of showing us they care," Will chuckled.

"It's not funny," Sam growled, even though his scowl faltered for a moment.

"Of course not," Will soothed, even if he didn't mean it. "Dare I even ask how you're doing?"

"Does pissed off and plotting murder cover it?"

Again, Will's rich laughter filled the phone. He was getting a kick out of the entire situation, which only served to aggravate Sam more. "Do you need me to send someone to pick you up?"

"No, I got that covered. Some old guy found me and towed Bee to his shop. All I need you to do is come pick Bee up tomorrow and drive him home- if you're free, that is," Sam amended at the end.

"No problem. I'm sure I can bribe one of the other 'Bots to drive me out," Will replied amiably.

"Thanks," Sam said earnestly. "And while you're at it, can I ask a little favour?"

"Sure, name it."

"When you "drive" Bee home, ride the brakes the entire way back, will you?" Sam cocked his own satisfied smile as he heard Will snort. "I mean it, Will. Ride the brakes until they're smoking." He could practically see the older man shaking his head.

"Alright, you got it- one ride from hell coming up."

"That's what I'm hoping for," Sam replied, suddenly in a much better mood.

"Mind me asking how you're getting to Phoenix if Bumblebee is pretending to be laid up?" Will enquired.

"Don't worry about that, I got it covered," Sam assured. "I'm getting a ride from one of the employees in the shop here."

"Used the old Witwicky charm on them, did you?"

"Hardly needed it- I don't think my drive could have refused even if she wanted to." The tugging at his lips evolved into a full blown grin. There was no way she could have refused.

"'She' huh? I should have guessed. It's been a long time since any woman's been able to refuse you." Sam could hear the amusement in Will's voice. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't. This one's special."

"Special? Never heard you say that about any of your other conquests." Indeed, now Will sounded quite intrigued.

"None of my other conquests have been _her_."

"Sounds serious," Will teased. "What her name?"

Sam paused for a moment, ruminating over whether or not he should say the name or keep it to himself. In the end, he gave in, wanting to hear Will's reaction firsthand. "Mikaela Banes."

The line was silent for so long that Sam wondered if he'd been disconnected. Eventually, Will found his voice- "_Mikaela Banes_?"

"Yes."

"_The_ Mikaela Banes?"

"Yes."

"The girl you dated sixteen years ago, _that_ Mikaela Banes?"

"Will, don't be a dick. How many girls do you think we both know with the name 'Mikaela Banes?'" Sam asked, getting a little annoyed. "Of course it's her."

A disbelieving breath drifted through the phone, making it sound like static for a second. "Holy shit, Sam. That's just… _wow_. I mean… _wow_."

"You're telling me."

"So it's really her?"

"Yeah." He'd know her anywhere- her scent, her smile, the feel of her body in her arms. The woman was undoubtedly Mikaela Banes.

"_Damn_. That's like something out of the movies," Will exclaimed. "Out of all the car shops you could have possibly landed yourself in, you ended up on the one Mikaela works at. I'd call that fate."

"Really? I'm calling it something a little different- more like "meddling alien pseudo-friend who can't mind his own damn business.""

"I'm sure he meant well," Will soothed. Sam grumbled something incoherent. "Aright, enough crapping on Bumblebee- Gimme the goods on Mikaela- what's she doing all the way in the middle of nowhere? How's she doing? I bet she looks good all grown up, right?"

Sam leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes to conjure the image of the bronzed beauty he knew was lurking in the living room. "She looks _amazing_," he breathed, even if it felt like no word in any human language could describe exactly how good she looked. "Will, you got _no_ idea."

Hearing the tone in his friend's voice, a pure sincerity he hadn't heard in a long while, caused a warm smile to spread across Will's face. "Aww, is little Sammy in love already?"

"Not a chance, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good-looking woman," the other man retorted. A cover-up, if Will ever heard one. He found himself grateful to Bumblebee orchestrating this little interlude- it might be exactly the thing Sam needed the most.

"Good-looking or not, it'll be nice for you two to catch up with each other on the way to Phoenix. I'm glad she agreed to drive you."

"So am I." Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd said something he meant so much.


	4. Chapter 4

Well, in honour of reaching two of my goals- the first being getting through my damn midterms and the second being reaching at least 7 reviews for chapter 3 before I post chapter 4, I am now posting chapter 4 with a joyous heart and big grin on my face!

I just want to say right here that I am working on chapter 17 of Come as best I can, but it's a slow going process. I'm real sorry to anyone who reads Come and is getting irked by the long wait for the next chapter. Believe me, I know where you're coming from and I'm doing my best to buckle down and focus on the fic! Hopefully, this will tide you over for a little bit!

**Cassiopeia1979**- lol! I'm real glad to hear that you like this fic! I'm trying real hard to appeal to the masses!

**Lecidre**- Awwww, I'm so flattered to hear that you like Oscar from this fic! He's such a funny character to write! Gloria's a nice character to write, too! They're a real nice couple for taking Mikaela in all those years ago, and they're an even nicer couple for steering Mikaela in the right direction, right back to Sam!

**Bunnylass**- OMG! You earn the prize for best review of the chapter! When I saw the review, I just about jumped out of my skin in happiness! Long reviews are always my favourite since they usually point out specific things that the reader liked in the chapter, which is a big help to the one writing the story! It really looks like you're enjoying the story so far, which makes me happy beyond words! I hope you go on enjoying yourself!

**Chloo**- Nope, not dead! Hope I didn't worry you too much.

**Bluebird Soaring**- Oh, Bumblebee's gonna get what's coming to him, that's for sure! And Sam still has a sweet side to him; no amount of growing up could ever truly knock it out of him. It just took him a little bit of reminding that he just have a real heart buried underneath all that hot, sexual tension.

**theshadowcat**- Yeah, there's going to be 'hankey-pankey,' as you put it, but it's been sixteen years since they've last seen each other- cut them some slack! Let them get to know each other first before they do the nasty. But, just to assuage your curiosity; yes, they'll be having fun time sooner or later!

**Litahatchee**- Are you serious? There's a word limit on reviews? That's freaking messed up! If someone chooses to give a long review, that's their business! What's next, putting word limits on chapters? God forbid! I'll quit the site if they do! I'm glad you were able to send some love along, despite the new restrictions! Thanks so much! I'm so glad that you like the story! Here's hoping the love continues!

Special thanks to **Violetlight**, who edited my ass! You are truly one of the greatest people in the world! Without you, my story would be all the more mistake-ridden!

Read&Review please! Everyone likes a nice pat on the head once in a while!

**Chapter 4**

"I'm glad Mikaela agreed to drive you to Phoenix," Bumblebee said quietly while Sam stood by his open trunk, a bag in each hand. "It's rather generous of her, since the trip is bound to take two hours."

"Keep saying that, Bee, like you didn't decide to leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere," Sam grouched. "It makes everything better."

Bumblebee gave a static-laden sigh, sinking deeply on his wheels. "Can't you at least try to make the best of the situation?"

The look that crossed the man's face was a cross between outrage and incredulity. "_Make the best of the situation_? The situation you so neatly created?" His voice came out as a hissing breath.

"I broke do-."

"Oh, _please_, Bumblebee! Don't patronize me with that crap!" Finally brought to the end of his tether, Sam let his frustration loose on his friend. "I'd like to think we've been together long enough to know when we're fucking around with each other, and I damn well know you're fucking with me now. You're an Autobot-trained scout, _a spy_, for God's sake! I know you're damn capable of doing something like this! Just come out and say it instead of insulting my intelligence like this."

The Camaro was silent for a long time, too long for Sam's shot patience. The human kicked the alien's tire.

"I mean it, Bumblebee. Stop screwing around with me."

Bumblebee heaved a sigh, which came out as a great rush of air from the car. "...you needed this, Sam."

Sam's eyes narrowed, leaning heavily against his old friend. "Needed _what_, exactly? To get laid? Or to be tortured slowly by my overwhelming sexual lust for Mikaela Banes?"

"Just lust?" Bumblebee enquired.

"_Just_ lust." Sam assured flatly.

Again, Bumblebee was quiet for a long time, shifting gently against the human. "...I'm truly sorry for doing this to you, Sam. I know I've caused you considerable frustration through this." There was a real sense of apology in his voice this time. Not fake. It made Sam feel marginally better, until the alien continued talking. "But, as it stands, you have also caused me some considerable frustration during our years together as you forced me to stand by and watch you drown yourself in work and disgusting mindless sex. I'm willing to even put my Autobot insignia on the line to say you've refused to be emotionally intimate with another woman ever since Mikaela left. I refuse to go on any longer watching you torture yourself like this. It's as intolerable a punishment to me as it is you."

He obviously hit a nerve, since Sam's compact body tensed, went rigid, and his eyes flashed dangerously. "I've killed Decepticons bigger than you. I _dare_ you to say this was for my own good again."

Undeterred by the threat, Bumblebee issued a static snort. "This is for your own good. I'll never deny it."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You only wish you could."

"No, I'm pretty sure I hate you at the moment."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I- oh, forget it. I'm not getting into with you right now," Sam growled. "As long as you admit to all this bullshit, I'm good." And just like that, all the anger seemed to rescind out of Sam's body, suddenly defeated. He waved his hand about the empty garage. "There's nothing that can be down now, so I guess I just have to live with it..." Under his breath, he hissed, "_asshole_."

"You don't have to sound so _enthused_," Bumblebee teased, attempting to lighten the mood. Sam cracked the ghost of a smile, but said nothing. Heartened by the human's small gesture, the Camaro pressed on valiantly. "Besides, Sam, you can't honestly tell me that you're not in the least bit pleased about this new arrangement."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm very pleased with the Mikaela-part of this arrangement," Sam replied honestly, thinking of Mikaela's long legs exposed in those cut-off shorts she'd been wearing, and how those legs would feel wrapped around him. He was a man, after all, and Mikaela was probably the finest looking woman he'd seen in a long time. He'd have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to enjoy the arrangement a little bit.

"See? That's very good! So at least you will be able to enjoy some more time with her while you drive to Phoenix-,"

"Yeah, right. Nothing like engaging in slow, torturous foreplay trapped in the cab of a moving vehicle while going 65 miles per hour with no hope of sexual gratification in the end; the thought really puts me in a chipper mood." Just sitting next to Mikaela at this point would be considered foreplay to his errant libido.

"Well, if it means anything to you, your pheromone levels are at a record high-."

"Keep my pheromone levels out of this," the human grunted quietly as the door opened and both Vautzs wandered in.

Oscar's gaze darted about. "Who ya talkin' ta, my boy?" he asked.

Sam grimaced, sensing the laughter coming from Bumblebee. "Just saying goodbye to my car," he replied through gritted teeth, fashioning a smile to his face. "Telling him to behave while I'm gone."

Oscar looked touched. "Awww, that's mighty sweet of ya, Sammy boy, but I'm sure I'll get along great with this sweet little treasure of yours. Nothin' like a little bit a' bonding time between me an' this classic ta make good friends." He patted Bumblebee fondly.

Sam nodded, adjusting the grip on his duffle bags. "Well, as long as fixing him isn't any trouble for you…"

"Bah, what trouble? Got nothing better to do around here except the ol' bird- Ouch! I meant the Firebird!" Oscar cried as his wife raised her hand to whack him again.

The old woman huffed, lowering her hand. "Of course you did, you old nut." She brushed out the non-existent dirt from her skirt, and then made her way over to Sam. She was easily over a head shorter than he was, but the intelligence in her gaze had him straightening his stance as if she were his commanding officer.

"I want you to know," the woman began slowly, carefully, "Mikaela may not be our little girl by blood, but she sure is special to us. I don't know if you being here some act of God, the devil, or by serendipity itself, but whatever happens, I want you to know that that girl's heart has been broken more times than I can count and I don't think she can handle another heartache. If you intent to do _anything_ with her beyond saying thank you for the drive, I want you to keep that mind, young man."

The muscles in Sam's chest tightened for a fraction of a second as he acknowledged the idea that Mikaela had been through her fair share of heartaches beyond him, before he nodded firmly. "Yes, ma'am," he replied in all seriousness. "I'll keep that mind."

Gloria paused for a long moment in front of Sam, raising a hand to cup his roughed cheek. "You seem like a nice young man, so I'm going to trust you on your word," she sighed. "But if my girl comes home crying, you can be sure I'll hunt you down. There's still some bite left in this old woman." The glint in her blue eyes spoke volumes of the bite she still had left.

"I'll keep that in mind, too," Sam replied, swallowing nervously.

The growling sputter of an ancient engine gunning up filtered through the blazing air, announcing that Mikaela had finally coaxed her old truck into ignition.

"An' here comes lil' Mick!" Oscar crowed.

A dusty red shape hunkered into view- a dented, shuddering 1965 Ford pick-up, with Mikaela looking tense at the wheel, not even daring to look over at Sam. She had the look of a prisoner walking down death row, resigned to the fact that she was going to have to share space with the sexually potent presence of Sam Witwicky.

"Ain't she a beaut'?" Oscar marvelled, grinning. Sam nodded, studying the girl inside the cab rather than the overall truck he was supposed to survive in for the next two hours. Bumblebee tensed the moment he caught sight of it, downright horrified. Sam felt the Camaro's discreet shudder. Turning back to the car, he ducked close and patted the roof fondly.

"I don't think this is such a good idea anymore, Sam. Look at the condition of that- that thing!" the alien hissed, almost too quiet to hear. "I never would have imagined Mikaela driving a junk heap like that!"

"Too late, buddy." Enjoying Bumblebee's abject horror, Sam turned, thanked the Vautzs for their hospitality, and then jogged to the Ford when Mikaela gave an impatient honk of the horn. Clambering in, he buckled up, pressing back against the seat as Mikaela leaned over to wave out the open passenger side window.

"I'll be back by tonight!" she called.

"Be safe!" Gloria called back, waving.

"Have fun!" Oscar shouted gaily, flapping both arms.

With a roll of her eyes, Mikaela settled back into her seat, put the truck into gear, and swung out onto the road.

* * *

Sufficed to say, the first few miles were _awkward_. They remained silent, neither willing to broach any topic of conversation with the other. The radio was left dead, since nobody seemed able to sum up enough energy to actually turn it on. Mikaela kept shooting Sam discreet glances from the corner of her eye, as if making sure she hadn't been dreaming before when he'd showed up in her garage. Sam didn't bother to mask his interest, blatantly staring at Mikaela to rememorize the profile of her body, enjoying his unhindered view of utter womanly perfection. He figured that if he was going to torture himself by being in the vicinity of this woman he might as well do it right.

At the fifteen minute mark, Mikaela finally had enough. "You can stop staring, you know," she grumped.

"I know, but I like what I see," Sam replied airily.

"You're distracting me," she pointed out through a clenched jaw. The willpower it was taking to not snap at him, or worse, _jump his bones_, was seriously doing a number on her patience. She could feel his eyes on her, tracking her, tracing her; she felt his gaze like a physical caress. After three years of near-isolation with the Vautzs, _any_ kind of caress felt like too much. She shifted in her seat, hoping to relax the squirming heat settling low in her stomach, only to find that Sam's eyes smouldered even more fixedly as she moved, his slow, knowing grin almost causing a soft moan to leave her lips.

This was getting absolutely ridiculous.

"Turnabout is fair play, sweetheart," he chuckled, continuing to grin languidly. "You've been distracting me ever since I laid eyes on you."

"You're as horrible with pick up lines now as you were sixteen years ago," Mikaela snorted.

"Oh, I don't know about that... You eventually let me ride you home, didn't you?" he teased, reaching across to brush his knuckles against her cheek. The touch was like fire to them both.

She sucked in a quick breath, pressing her lips into a fine line. _"Sam,"_ she breathed in warning, sending him a hard look. Her bubble was still firmly in place. "Don't make this harder than it already is, okay?"

He immediately drew back his hand, masking the look of hurt that flashed across his face. "Sorry." He honestly hadn't meant anything blatantly sexual in the touch that time- it had just been something his body did automatically.

Once again, they slipped into a heavy silence, broken by the growl of the yet-to-be-converted combustion engine of the Ford. They wasted another five minutes in stubborn silence before Sam got tired of feeling like the awkward teenager he once was instead of the confident adult he'd shaped up to be, hoping to engage the beauty next to him in some genuine conversation.

"Lennox will be picking up Bumblebee tomorrow," he said out of the blue.

His voice startled Mikaela for a moment, though she recovered quickly. "You mean Will?"

"Yeah."

"That's good. I was wondering what was going to happen with Bumblebee," she replied, smiling softly. "I'd feel really bad for him if he was stuck in the garage for the entire time you were in Phoenix."

Sam offered a gentle smile. "He'd deserve it, though." _The little scheming slag heap._

"I'm sure he would." Mikaela's eyes wandered his way for a second, the ghost of a smile playing across her face. "I bet he's having a panic attack right now, after seeing what kind of truck I drive."

"You could say that," he chuckled. "I think the poor guy just about went on the fritz when he saw your ride."

Mikaela patted the dash of her beloved Ford. "This old thing has been through thick and thin with me and I'm not about to give up on him. Even if I have to special order the gasoline and it costs me an arm and a leg, he's still my baby."

Sam gave the interior of the cab an appraising look for the first time, noting the detail that must have went into restoring such an old junker to the relative beauty it was now. "You did a good job on him," he complimented offhandedly. "I can see why you're fond of this old thing."

"He's been here for me through a lot of things," she sighed, then realized what she said and immediately flinched, pressing her lips together. No need to go dumping on a relative stranger, especially one that was eyeing her like a lion staring down a gazelle.

"I can imagine," Sam murmured, running his hand over the dusty, sun-warmed dash. Staring around the Ford's interior, he could imagine the amount of tears the steering wheel had caught, and the number of hugs the seat belt had offered. He wanted to offer her something too; a hug, maybe some kind words whispered in her ear, but he didn't dare.

Displaying that hardy strength that Sam had always admired, Mikaela shook herself hard, getting her mind on straight. "Okay, enough about that, how about you tell me what's _really_ been going on with you all these years," she said, fixing him with a pointed sidelong glance. "And none of that writer crap you spouted earlier. Tell about the Autobots and what's been happening with their war- I want to know everything."

"This is only a two hour drive," Sam pointed out, ignoring the obvious subject change.

"Give it to me in a nutshell, then," Mikaela insisted.

"In a nutshell, it's no longer just their war. It's _ours,_" Sam sighed, sagging. "Ever since Starscream returned from Cybertron with his mechs, it's been us against them. We've got the world's militaries aiding us, but that's barely enough. Starscream knows how to fight, and he's not concerned with any humans that might get in the way. Us on the other hand…"

Mikaela nodded understandingly. "It sucks when you have to be the good guy," she commented offhandedly.

Sam shook his head. "Somebody has to be. It's just hard reminding everyone to watch where they step so they don't squish one of us. Ironhide has to be reminded constantly."

Mikaela tried to play down her brief smile as she conjured the image of the Autobots hopping around trying to avoid the tiny humans at their feet. "No one's been stepped on so far, I hope."

"No one that I know of, but some of the bots haven't been known for their honesty either," Sam replied, earning a laugh from the woman.

"So the war's still going full tilt, then?" she asked, trying to get back to the war at hand.

"Starscream isn't exactly one to half-ass an attack, so yeah, it's full tilt."

"I thought with Megatron gone that he would have given up," Mikaela reasoned. The few years she'd stuck around with the Autobots, the scattered battles she'd participated in were only the round-up kind, scrapping it out with a few rogue Decepticons kicking up a fuss; Starscream was way off the radars by that time.

"He wants revenge," Sam informed darkly. All the previous sexual innuendo that had hinted in his eyes was long gone, replaced by the steely presence of a hardened soldier, someone who'd seen too much battle to have gone unscathed. "He also wants Earth's resources. Apparently, compared to Cybertron, Earth is a jackpot's worth of energy reserves, enough to keep the 'Cons going for a long time."

"Damn," Mikaela hissed. "How come none of this has been in the news? If it's as bad as you say and Starscream is here with a legion of Decepticons, shouldn't the fights be a little more publicized? I mean, shouldn't us lowly humans be ducking and covering by now, cowering in our bomb shelters or whatever?"

"Remember Mission City?"

She groaned. "Oh God, are you kidding me? They're chalking it all up to-."

"Terrorist attacks? Yeah."

"That was a dumb excuse then, and it's a dumb excuse now."

"And yet the world at large buys it," Sam pointed out.

Mikaela shook her head, smiling wryly. "If you say so."

"What about you? Haven't you been watching the news?"

"Not if I can help it," Mikaela snorted. "And if what you say is true, then I'm not missing much."

Sam considered her words for a moment before nodding. "I suppose you're right, you haven't missed much."

"And what about you?" she asked, darting him a glance. "What part do you play in all this?"

He laughed, but the sound was hollower than before. "I'm a multi-purpose tool," he replied. "Sometimes I'm an ambassador between the Autobots and Earth, sometimes a peacekeeper on base, sometimes tactical recon, sometimes part of an infiltration unit with Bumblebee; there's a dozen other things I do, but they're hardly worth mentioning. It all depends on what they need me for at the time."

"So you're a jack of all trades?"

"Something like that."

"And you're supposed to be a writer too, on top of all that?"

Sam quirked a smile. "I wasn't lying when I said I was a writer." He reached into a bag at his feet and drew out a paperback novel, dog-eared and rumpled from years of abuse. "See? One of my books."

"Huh, no shit," Mikaela breathed, nodding absently. "How do you manage being a writer on top of everything else?"

"I just do. I write whenever I get the chance." His handsome face darkened. "Sometimes I just want to feel like a normal human with a normal job. It doesn't always work so well, but it was worth a shot when I first tried. Now it's just another thing I do…" he trailed off quietly, scrubbing his face with his hand. He startled a bit when he felt a gentle hand on thigh. When his eyes darted up, he knew that Mikaela had seen a brief flash of what he'd really become- not the successful adult, but what Bumblebee had described him as hours earlier; alone, miserable, and frustrated. A fucked-up human being.

"Sam..."

"I'm handling it," he assured. He just didn't mention he wasn't handling it well.

"You always did know how to handle things better than I did," she said softly, squeezing his hand. The shadow that had crossed Sam's face had frightened her for a moment. There was no doubt that the awkwardly sweet and joking teen she'd dated had grown up, but it pained her to think that the world he now lived in didn't allow for the same jokes and smiles anymore. More by instinct than rational thought, Mikaela offered him a smile of wordless comfort. She felt the corded muscles in his leg tense, the touch sending an electric current through both their bodies, before his hand crept out and enwrapped hers in a warm grasp.

"Thanks. I'm trying," he murmured, lifting her hand to his mouth to lay a warm kiss to the back of it. Startled by the gesture, she tugged her hand a little too quickly. "Sorry," he amended again.

"No, it's fine. I just wasn't expecting it," Mikaela replied, a bit breathless. Her hand tingled from the brief contact. She hesitated before speaking again, choosing to try and lay down some ground rules now before the rest of the trip drove her insane. "It's really nice to see you again, Sam-,"

"Likewise," he cut in.

"-But, it's like I said before; I can't get mixed up in any of this stuff again. There's old chemistry between us, sure, but that's all- _old _chemistry. We've both moved on; we have our own lives now." What she didn't say, but was so clearly written across her face was _I'm scared to go through it all again. _

Sam studied her face for a long minute, reading her expressions carefully. She was holding back and it hurt him to see her hurting on the inside, held back by the one-too-many heartaches Gloria had mentioned. If there ever was a time he wished they were driving in an alien robot turned car so he could reach over and wrap the woman in a tight hug without going off the road, it was now. Still surprised by the strength of the tender urges Mikaela stirred in him, Sam drew back, mentally reigning himself in. He wanted her- _God, he wanted her_- but it was too soon to be making a move like that. He had to get her to trust him first, to remember that they had been friends once too, not just lovers.

He raised his hands to her innocently. "Okay, sorry, sometimes I can't help myself when there's a beautiful woman around." Especially if that beautiful woman was _her. _

"You are such a dork," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Just don't get too carried away."

"I'll try not to." Though he didn't plan on stopping himself if he did.

Her smile was soft as she reached out for the radio dial, fiddling with it until she found a relatively good station. It was interesting to watch her play with the stations, going through the range of them before settling for one. How long had it been since he'd even touched a car radio? Or had to drive on his own, for that matter? It was nostalgic and strange to think about, but terribly arousing to see her tapered fingers playing across the dials.

Mentally slapping himself, Sam looked away, forcing his gaze out the window. His restraint was already being sorely tested, anymore more and he's snap. It was such an unaccustomed feeling it be so wildly aroused by the presence of a single woman; it made him slightly uncomfortable to think that he'd never desired another being as hungrily as this. It pissed him off to no end that he'd been sporting a semi-hard on even since he'd laid eyes on the woman.

It took a few moments of regrouping, but then Sam pasted a smile back on to his face, prepared to dredge up his charming self in order to entertain for the next hour and half.

* * *

By the time they hit the outskirts of Phoenix, Sam had decided several things. One, he probably now held the world record for hours spent in extreme sexual discomfort with a smile on his face; two, that Mikaela was quite possibly the only woman on the planet he'd happily sport a hard on for several hours with even knowing nothing was going to happen in the end, and three- he was now fully aware of how much he'd missed Mikaela in the years they'd been apart and now wanted her back in his life, even if it was only in a friendship capacity.

Thankfully, he'd accomplished what he considered the first step in getting a missing piece in his life back already. He had Mikaela relaxed, laughing even, as he told her stories of what had been going on for the last sixteen years she'd been absent from his life- nothing too heavy, just the stuff that they could both laugh at. He listed off all the new Autobots that had landed and their special "quirks"- like Wheeljack and his explosions, Prowl and his logic, Bluestreak and his talking, Red Alert and his paranoia, the Twins with their practical jokes, and Perceptor with his sciences…

"_Are you serious?"_ Mikaela gasped as Sam related one particular story, one hand covering her gaping mouth as she divided her attention between incredulity and navigating the streets of the busy city centre.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I wouldn't lie about something like that," he replied. "I mean, look at me- do you really think I'd shoot up half a foot without extraterrestrial help?"

"Oh my god…" her eyes were wide as they traced his figure carefully, taking in the changes that had occurred- he was definitely taller, broader, both easily attributable to time, but not to the extent that they had occurred. "You mean Perceptor just injected you with growth hormones… without your consent…? _Are you frigging kidding me_?!"

"Wish I was," Sam replied with a grimace as he remembered the incident. "He was new to the planet and hadn't quite caught on to the whole 'informed consent' thing amongst us humans- I don't think he even caught on that we were sentient by then. All I know is one moment I'm sleeping in my quarters and the next I'm strapped to a table being injected with hell knows what." One of the worse nights of his life, save the night he realized the chick he'd just slept with was actually Bluestreak.

"I bet Prime was pretty mad," Mikaela reasoned. She herself was feeling a little righteously piqued in Sam's defence. After an hour and half of being regaled with stories of the years gone by, she was feeling quite a bit more at ease with the man, more willing to be incensed in his defence.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so _pissed_," Sam informed her. "For that matter, I don't think I've ever seen Bumblebee so mad either. It was quite the fiasco."

"I hope he got what was coming to him," she snorted indelicately, nudging into the lane indicated by Sam as they neared the hotel he had reservations with. "Ugh! I can't believe someone would just strap you down and experiment on you like that! Like you were some- some guinea pig!"

He shrugged, feeling smug that he had managed to worm her on to his side after two hours of wheedling with his stories. "Yeah, Perceptor got what was coming to him, but that was years ago. Everything's fine now. He's more than made up for the incident by helping us with other stuff. And I'm not exactly complaining about the height increase."

"I bet." Mikaela rolled her eyes, turning into the half-circle drop-off area in front of the hotel she'd been directed to. Glancing out the window at it, she could help but feel extremely… underdressed, even if she was just sitting out front. It was a ritzy place, one of those hotels that catered to the rich, all gold filigree and marble walls, silk and satin textures everywhere. "You sure we're in the right place?"

He grimaced, staring out at the monstrosity of a building. "Unfortunately…"

Spotting the valets eyeing her ancient truck with looks of abject horror of the ancient travesty that just rolled in, Mikaela pursed her lips, glaring back at them. "Okay, well, here's your stop, and I got you here before five so you didn't miss your reservation. Good luck with your book signing and everything else…"

"Have dinner with me," Sam suddenly blurted. He wanted her to stay.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me," he repeated, this time slower. "Please. It'd be my way of thanking you."

"You don't need to thank me, _really_," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. If she stayed, she had a feeling her self-control would run out by the time dessert rolled around.

"Then have dinner with me so we can talk a little longer," Sam offered, looking like he wasn't going to take _no_ for an answer.

She looked down at herself- grubby shirt, dusty shorts, battered shoes. "I'm not dressed for dinner in a place like this," she pointed out.

Sam eased himself across the minute distance between them, testing the waters carefully as he touched her cheek with one hand and leaned in with his most charming smile. "You'll be the most beautiful woman in there, I promise." She could have been wearing a paper sack and still have been beautiful. When she rolled her eyes, he pressed on. "We'll get a private booth for just the two of us, so it won't matter what we're wearing. I'll roll in the dirt for you so you won't be the worst dressed person there." The warmth of his hand was distracting her. His lame, joking offer, so much like the old Sam she knew, made her giggle a bit. He grinned and pressed a breath closer. "You, me, for old time's sake? Just dinner."

"Just dinner," she repeated, measuring the words. She searched the sincerity in Sam's eyes and found that he honestly wanted her there. She was surprised to find that she honestly wanted to stay, too- for dinner, at least. "_Fine_, just dinner, but then I have to go."

Before he could help himself, Sam flashed a smile full of teeth, and then closed the distance between their mouths.

It wasn't like their kiss in the garage, which had barely been a touch; this was a kiss that made their hearts flutter, their skin heat up, and their lower bodies curl with instant sexual awareness of each other. Sam's lips, first tentative against hers, turned firm the moment a tiny gasp drifted from Mikaela's soft mouth, drawing on her lips and tongue to dance with his. He'd only meant to kiss her in thanks, a spontaneous move he'd hardly given thought to, but the feel of her lips on his wiped his tiny organic brain clean.

Without warning, Mikaela's hands came up to brace against his shoulders, her fingers digging into the firm, hot skin as she dragged him closer. She hadn't been expecting the kiss. Hell, she hadn't been expecting the instant toe-curling, seat-wetting, spontaneously-come-on-the-spot feeling of Sam's mouth on hers, but the moment she had a taste of it, she didn't want to let go. She'd forgotten what it was like to be so aroused by one person that it felt like she was going to come out of her own skin, and they'd barely touched so far!

Sam grinned, a little desperate and lightheaded himself as he acquiesced to her demands to draw him closer, one arm looping around her to strain her body against the seatbelt.

The kiss left the taste of sex on their tongues, hot, spicy, and a little out of control.

A nervous rap at the window had them breaking apart.

"Uh… sir, ma'am, would you like me to take your vehicle?" the young, and slightly flustered, valet asked.

Sam grinned at the kid, tugging the keys from the ignition before Mikaela could shake herself out of her daze. He was out the door and pressing the keys into the kid's hands before anyone could blink, grabbing his two bags in one arm and circling around the Ford to unbuckle and gather Mikaela in the other. As if in second nature, he slipped his arm around her waist and pressed her heated body to his side.

"Thanks," he called back to the valet. "There's five buck on the seat for you." With Mikaela snug against him so she couldn't run even if she tried, he led the way into the overdone hotel, fully intending to treat the woman next to him to dinner, and hopefully afterwards _dessert_.


	5. Chapter 5

_The_ _Autobahn_- a wonderful type of highway in Germany and a few other European countries where there is reportedly no speed limits. Great name for a giant alien robot that turns into a car, don't you think?

**Cassiopeia1979**- The Bluestreak thing makes me laugh every time I think about it! I'm glad others are getting a kick out of the joke! And believe me, Bumblebee is going to be one curious little bot when he sees Sam again!

**Theshadowcat**- Hope I was fast enough with the chapter! It looks like a lot of people are eager for dessert, so I hope I deliver!

**Freakish Child**- Hey! Long time no see! It's been a while but I'm glad to hear from you! I'm glad that I was able to warm you up to the humans through this fic! It's a good thing too, since there's a lot of human interaction to come- but that's not to say that I'm forgetting about the bots!

**Bunnylass-** Whoa! Every time, my dear! Every time you review, you simply blow me away with your amazing reviews! You have no idea how much I look forward to seeing your comments on Come and Kiss and other fics I post! I hope you get a kick out of this chapter! It's definitely for you!

**Dragonflamecrystal**- I'm glad you like the story so far!

**Bluebird Soaring-** Don't worry too much over poor Bee! He's got enough to worry about with Oscar hovering around him to worry too much over Sam!

**Lecidre**- I've got to admit, I've got a mean side. I like to torture my characters a little bit, and the growth hormone thing with Sam was just my little bit of torture for him. I wouldn't have turned him into a monster or anything, but coming up with the idea sure was a whole lot of fun! And if you liked Mikaela being happy in the last chapter, I must say she's made quite happy in this one too!

**Apex Nine**- I'm glad you find my human story amusing!

**Litahatchee**- Yay! It's Lita! Thanks for the wonderful review that touched on every chapter! It was like getting four reviews in one! Thanks so much for all the love, sweets! You are simply the best! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the others!

**Xaniss**- Oh wow! That's quite the review you left! Thank you so much! I've never been too fond of Bumblebee's overuse of the radio, myself. Sure, it's understandable when he doesn't have a voice, but once he has his voice back it always made more sense to me that he would use it. And I'm glad my story isn't as predictable as you first thought it would be. I pride myself on having something a little different than everyone else, so seeing that that little flare is being appreciated by someone is gratifying.

**Just Because He Lives**- Um, thanks. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

**Chapter 5**

Trapped. Trapped like an animal in a gold-filigree cage with polished marble pillars. That was about the sum of the hell Mikaela was wallowing in right now.

She discreetly glanced to her captor, who looked irritatingly smug in light of successfully managing to get what he wanted with minimal coercion and very little bloodshed. Sure, the kiss had been impressive, _more than impressive_, but did he have to look so triumphant about it? Now that she had her mind back in order and the full five-star hell picture was coming back into focus, Mikaela had absolutely no intention of sticking around to allow herself to be made the fool again.

The moment the pair neared the front desk and paused to let a bellboy go by with a wobbling cart, Mikaela saw her opportunity to run and snatched it before it could pass her by. With Sam still sporting a grin on his face, thinking that one arm was going to be enough to hold her, she raced through her memories to the vague martial arts lessons Will and the others had tried to teach them years ago. She knew _exactly_ what to do. A well placed tromp on Sam's instep had him gasping, jerking away, giving Mikaela ample time to dart under his arm and make a break for the exit.

"Mikaela!"

Over the din of the fairly bustling hotel, she heard her name being called, as well as a few hissed curses which told her she'd managed to do a bit of damage, but she didn't dare look back. She really didn't have to, since the polished black marble walls were so glossy they were as good as any mirror, allowing Mikaela to know the moment Sam had dropped his bags and launched after her.

"Shit! Oh, shit!" she hissed, picking up her own pace. The cavernous lobby was not to her advantage, crowded as it was with guests and employees, slowing her down and giving Sam ample time to catch up. "Dammit! Shit! Dammit!" It seemed that no matter how fast she pushed her legs to go, Sam gained on her steadily. And then she mentally slapped herself as she remembered Sam had been the track star of Tranquility High in their senior year, since he'd figured out if he could outrun giant alien robots, he could out run some puny humans too.

"Mikaela, come on! Just stop!" Sam called, vaulting impressively over a passing cart, ignoring the small smattering of applause that followed.

"No, Sam! I'm not doing this!" She hit the revolving doors at a dead run, becoming a blur as she swung the door into a swirling storm of gold and glass, thrown out the other side slightly dizzy but still running. The kiss had been bad enough. A single kiss and every wit about her flew out the window- mind you, it had been a mind-blowing, sex-drive revving, toe-curling kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. She wasn't going to be dragged into another round of hell on Earth because her libido was whining to be satisfied. She was not some weak-willed whore to be tugged around by the panties like that!

In a split-second decision, she swung right and tore into the car pool where her truck was undoubtedly being held for ransom. Even if she didn't have the keys with her, she figured it was an easy enough job to hotwire the damn thing.

The valets scrambled as she came tearing through, darting into the long isles of sex-worthy cars in search of her jalopy. The echoing growl reverberating off the concrete pillars told her Sam had finally caught up again, possibly right on her heels if she bothered to glance behind her.

Taking a leap of faith between a Ferrari and a Jaguar, Mikaela kept her pace even as she panted, ducking low between the cars, trying to judge where Sam was in relation to herself and desperately trying to figure the best way out of this situation. She caught vague flashes of Sam's feet as she kept low to the ground, crawling along the sleek bodies of million dollar cars, crouching in the shadow of wheels so expensive they probably cost more than the Vautzs' house and garage put together.

She listened to his footsteps as they slowed, then died, Curious, she peered around the bumper of the immense Hummer she was taking shelter behind, finding Sam stopped in the middle of the wide isle. She watched as he rotated slowly, evaluating each car carefully for the potential of Mikaela being hidden behind them. He was attempting to track her. The look on his face was foreign, concentrated, and if she hadn't known who he was she would have thought him a stranger. He looked like a predator, something primal, his liquid-brown eyes moving fluidly, head cocked to every possible sound, body tense in anticipation to run, strike, take down what was his.

Her pulse beat acutely in her throat, but the taste it left on her tongue was not fear but stark excitement. There was something darkly arousing about being the sole focus of this man's hunt, knowing that she was the prize he was hunting for. Upon realizing that her body was getting a twisted thrill out of the situation, she mentally slapped herself; she was not supposed to be getting excited over something this, she was supposed to be trying to get the hell out of there!

'_Just don't look at him directly. Don't think about him too much. Don't get turned on by this!' _Mikaela chided herself as she crawled across the open space between a tricked out Cobra and a Firebird that made her feel a little righteously jealous in defense of the 67' Firebird she and Oscar were restoring. She gritted her teeth and pressed on. _"Find the truck and get the hell out of here!"_

Sam's voice suddenly cutting through the heavy tension knocked Mikaela's mental rapport right out of her head.

"Mikaela, look… I'm sorry, okay?" he suddenly said, his voice echoing slightly throughout the cavernous multistory parking garage. "I didn't mean to take advantage of you like that. I just really want to sit down with you and have a nice, normal dinner."

'_Yeah right,'_ Mikaela thought wryly. She may have lived in the desert for three years, but that didn't mean the sun had cooked all her brain cells- she knew an aroused man when she saw one, hungry, powerful and virile. He was smart, too- he was trying to get her to make a sound so that he could pinpoint her.

When he realized he wasn't going to get a rise any time soon, he pressed on with his one-sided conversation.

"I know you're here, Mikaela, there's no point in hiding anymore. It's just going to be a nice, normal dinner with over-priced food, snotty waitresses, bad music…"

'_Oh yeah, you're really going to keep me around with that on the bargaining table.' _She rolled her eyes, continuing her stealthy crawl across the parking garage.

Sam continued nonetheless. "I'll even up the ante a little- how about some more stories, huh? A little innocent conversation, and maybe we'll play even footsie under the table."

She couldn't help herself- she snorted, and then cursed when Sam's head swung in her direction. Dammit! Now he was on the move again, sprinting up the isle towards the blaring yellow Porsche she'd taken refuge behind. Sighing in exasperation, she darted up and made a mad dash around the Porsche, only to be cut off by a very hot body suddenly looming large in front of her.

"Got'cha," he grinned.

"Not likely," Mikaela snorted, remembering another self-defense technique she'd picked up several years ago. Her fist came up and planted firmly into the man's solar plexuses, causing him to grunt and go to one knee. Another curse shot from Mikaela's mouth as she legs carried her far fast. She flexed her hand, pretty sure she'd hurt herself more than she'd hurt him.

Only able to put a few car lengths between them, Mikaela only dared to look back once, growling when she realized Sam wasn't on his knees trying to gather air anymore. He was breathing down her neck.

"Would you screw off, Sam Witwicky! I wanna go home!" she yelled.

"Not until get what I want!" he replied, his invigorated laugh traveling straight down her spine.

"God, I hate you!" she yelled back, but could stop the answering laugh that passed her lips. In the half-light of the parking garage, on the far side of the lot, she spotted a truck that stuck out from the others- old, rusted, and completely hers. Giving a whoop of joy, she darted out into the wide isle and picked up her speed, her own footsteps drowned out by the pounding cacophony following on her heels.

Just as she reached the door, a pair of steel bands wrapped around her, jerking her back to a wall of pure heat and strength. With adrenaline still coursing through her body, she kicked and squirmed and wriggled futilely, all the while becoming heatedly aware of the hot breath stroking her exposed neck and the racing heartbeat pounding out a rhythm against her back. Their bodies were perfectly aligned; her curves to his angles, like two very aroused, panting, puzzle pieces.

Knowing she was caught, Mikaela sighed and did her best to relax in his grasp.

"Well, that was fun," Sam hummed, his words ghosting hotly over the hollow where her neck met her shoulders. He wasn't panting from exertion, he hadn't even broken a sweat, but Mikaela could feel the iron-clad tension that gripped his body. Hot and aroused.

"Fun for you, maybe," Mikaela shot back.

"I don't know about that," he murmured, rocking against her gently. "I'm pretty sure I saw a little smile on your face at one point."

"That was probably right after I hit you. I enjoyed that immensely."

He laughed, the warmth of the sound washing over her in waves. He seemed to have forgotten that his arms still held her trapped against him, so she pried at the unmoving steel bands in hopes to free herself. Muscle flexed deliciously under her fingers, but the arms did not budge.

"Let me go, Sam," she ordered softly.

"Will you run again?" he asked.

"Maybe."

His arms tightened fractionally, pressing her closer. "Will you run again?"

"No," she sighed. To be honest, even if she could run, she didn't want to.

"Good," he murmured, and then dared to press his mouth closer, right to the shell of her ear, causing shiver to run through her body. "Because I'd only chase after you again, and we both know I'll catch you."

"Yeah…"

He watched her for a moment, examining the profile of her face carefully. She was flushed from the excitement of the run, and with his height advantage he had a nice view of her chest heaving as she panted, muscles still coiled in her tight body in a way he could certainly relate to. He felt coiled too. On the edge. So tight he felt like coming out of his skin. Remembering that he was supposed to release her, he did so, but only long enough to turn her around, and then he had her wrists captured in his hands and he was pressing her body back into the old Ford's door using his own body.

"What are you doing?" Mikaela growled, eyes narrowed. The husky tone of her voice rolled over him like a physical caress, nearly putting him on his knees from the pleasure of hearing it.

"Nothing you don't want me to do," he replied, enjoying how her eyes darkened and her mouth parted ever so slightly.

With his self-control spent, he bent his head to capture her lips, groaning as her mouth met his with the same fervor. It seemed they had both been hungering for the feel of the other's mouth.

On their own accord, his grip on her wrists tightened, bringing her hands up to plaster them to the door on either side of her head. She moved her body against his, her mind completely blank, moving in time to the rhythm of his mouth as she opened up to him, breathed him in. And he sank into her, as any predator would once they subdued their prey. Her mouth was hot as he darted in, ravenous for something to quench the insatiable thirst that gripped him now. He felt aflame as the woman before him moved, her body saying things to him nearly had him worshipping at her feet. She moved against his hard length, causing him to gasp and then growl, pressing her harder into the truck door, fitting his hips between hers so that she could _feel_ how badly this was affecting him.

He liked the way her head tilted back, her teeth biting her bottom lip. The way she moaned, _"Oh God,"_ just about did him in.

And then a car drove by, parking in the spot just a few spaces over. The valet climbed out, glanced at them, and then turned his head away with the lurid slash of color painting his cheeks. In a matter of seconds, the mood was ruined.

"We- we should get back inside," Mikaela sighed shakily.

"We?" Sam repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

She shared him down stubbornly, her mouth pursing. "You caught me fair and square, so it's only right I stay for dinner."

"Gloria and Oscar?"

"Can wait for a few more hours."

"Well then, in that case…" he pushed himself off her, placing her firmly in front of him with his hands planted on her shoulders. "Lead the way."

"You sure?"

He chuckled, squeezing her shoulders in an almost rueful manner. "I think it's best you stay in front for a little while."

"Using me as a human shield? Planning on getting shot sometime soon, Mr. Witwicky?" she teased.

Any other time, Sam probably would have said yes, since he usually was a walking target whenever a Decepticon was in the area, but at the moment, the circumstances were a little different… "While getting shot at is always a fun ordeal, Miss Banes, that's not why I need a human shield at the moment." His eyes darted down, indicating the very prominent problem he had.

"Ah." Was it right to laugh at him for something like that? Everything mature in her brain told her no, but she laughed anyways, only to end it in a groan as he fit himself against her backside and grinded.

"Just walk, will you?" he groaned.

Nodding, Mikaela started forward, making sure to match Sam's pace so as not to give any unsuspecting bystanders a show they didn't want to see. Who knew how many innocent kids were lurking around?

As they reached the exit of the garage and left enquiring valets in their wake, Mikaela dared a mischievous glance back. "So… those growth hormones- they didn't just affect your height, huh?"

* * *

By the time they reached the check-in desk, it was safe for Sam to relinquish his hiding spot behind Mikaela, though he was somewhat reluctant to do so. The woman at the desk smiled to Sam, recognizing him as a fairly regular guest to the hotel.

"You ran out of here in quite a hurry, Mr. Witwicky," she said, seemingly not bothered by the pair's less-than-upstanding state of dress, or by the slightly disheveled looks they were sporting at the moment. "I hope it had nothing to do with us?"

"Oh no, everything's fine. I just had to take care of a little business," Sam assured, reaching out to wrap an arm around Mikaela's waist and bring her to his side. This time, he smartly held her with both arms, placing his chin comfortably on her shoulder.

"I see. Well, I hope everything was taken care of," the woman replied warmly, her gaze darting once to Mikaela with a not-so-subtle sparkle in her eyes. Mikaela noted that her name tag read "Victoria".

"Ah, you know how it is Vicky. There's still a little business I'm hoping to take care of later," Sam said amiably, this time successfully sidestepping Mikaela's attack as she went for his instep again. He carefully disengaged from Mikaela to lean on the marble desk, a charming smile in place as he chatted up the receptionist with whom he usually dealt with when he was trapped in this way-too-glitzy hellhole. "I was hoping you'd be able to help me with a little problem, though."

"Anything, Mr. Witwicky. You know I'm here to help." Her smile was genuine, the dark tan to her skin glowing under the ambiance of the buttery light filtering in to the lobby.

"I seem to have misplaced the bags I dropped earlier. You haven't by any chance seen them, have you?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Victoria replied with a little laugh. "I had them sent up to your room already. I hope you don't mind that I took the initiative."

"No, not at all," Sam chatted in a sincere way that would have had lesser woman melted in puddles at his feet.

With a quick clattering of manicured nails on a keyboard, Victoria was quick to bring up Sam's booked room, her smile widening as she read the room number and then darting a glance between Sam and Mikaela. "Well, now I understand the sudden need for a room change," she laughed.

"Oh?" Sam intoned, eyebrow raised.

Victoria blinked once, catching on to the surprise tone in that one little word. She leaned back, tipping her head a little to the side. "Your partner called in earlier today," she informed, briefly taking a moment to remember the man's name. She knew him just as well as she knew Sam, a charming blond man with the most angelic smile she'd ever seen on another human being. There were rumors that he and Sam were gay together, since they were rarely seen in public without each other, and Vicky would have believed them too if it weren't for the number of times she'd seen Sam traipsing through the lobby with a girl on his arm.

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Partner?"

"Benjamin Autobahn?"

Mikaela's mouth curled into a dry smirk. Three guesses who that name belonged to and the first two guesses didn't count…

Sam pressed his lips together, trying hard not to let his annoyance show. "And what did good ol' _Benji_ do with my room?" he asked.

"He requested that we switch you from your regular suite to one of the penthouse suites. We had one available, so I didn't think it was that much of a problem. If it is, I'd be more than happy to put you back in your normal room."

Sam waved her off, shaking his head. "No, it's fine. I don't want to cause anymore trouble," he sighed. "Benji's in enough trouble as it is." He breifly wondered how hard it would be to lure the Camaro into a car compactor...

"If you say so, Mr. Witwicky," Victoria replied, retrieving two keycards and handing them over. "I hope you enjoy your stay here, despite this little mix up."

"I always do. And now that everything's sorted out and my bags are already where they're supposed to be, I think I'm going to catch a bite to eat," he said, nodding to the woman and turning away. He tugged Mikaela along to the restaurant that could be found of the side of the lobby.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Mikaela let out the snort she'd been holding in. _"Benjamin Autobahn?" _

Sam shrugged, offering her a humored smile. "Hey, it works, doesn't it?" he laughed

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The restaurant, as Mikaela had feared, was as classy as everything else in the hotel, which made her uncomfortably aware of the faded cut-offs she was wearing and the state of her raggedy shirt. In most cases, she wasn't a self-conscious person, she'd long since come to terms with the good looks God gave her, but there were times when a girl just knew that good looks weren't going to save you from the strange glances others were going to give you when you looked like you just rolled out of the desert. And, in her case, she literally did just roll out of the desert.

The booth Sam had squirreled for them was thankfully out of direct view from most of the patrons enjoying dinner for the evening. A small blessing, to say the least. The way he had trotted into the restaurant and whispered a few words to the maître d' told Mikaela volumes about how many times Sam had requested this out-of-the-way booth in order to hide. She couldn't decide if she was grateful or made a little anxious by the gesture.

To be honest, the whole situation was making her a little anxious. So anxious, in fact, she didn't even remember what she'd ordered when a smartly dressed waiter had wandered by to take their orders. She remembered the warm smile the young man had had plastered on his face, and the wink he'd thrown her way, which had briefly put Sam into a grumpy mood. Other then offering Sam a smile and nudging him with her foot to cheer him up, she remembered nothing else. The smooth jazz playing from the live band situated on the far side of the posh room did little to sooth the woman's shot nerves. Sam's presence across from her, complete with hungry stares when he thought she wasn't looking, did nothing to settle the coiling feeling of her skin being too tight, too hot. Her heart didn't seem to want to calm down.

The return of their waiter prompted her to perk up, watching as he presented them with the wine that Sam had requested- something French was as much as Mikaela understood of it. "Chateau d ' Ampuis Syrah 2000 France" it was called. Two glasses were poured, one for her, one for Sam, and then the bottle was left for them.

"Go on, its fine," Sam encouraged, taking a sip of the blood-colored drink. He groaned as the flavours hit his tongue. "It's really fine."

"I still have to drive home," Mikaela grumbled, staring stubbornly at the undoubtedly fine wine sitting before her. She wasn't much of a wine connoisseur, but if the sweet fruity smell coming off the drink was any indication, it was bound to be delicious.

"One drink won't kill you," Sam assured, reaching across the table to nudge her glass closer to her hand.

A wry smile crossed Mikaela's lips as she looked into those hungry liquid eyes watching her. "You're just trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me later," she teased, finally giving in to having a sip. Fine wine, indeed. It was excellent.

Sam put on a mock-hurt look, drawing back. "Oh no, was I that transparent?"

"Like glass," Mikaela replied, laughing a little. Okay, so she was relaxing a little; was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Sam's smile was sincere as he grinned at her, settling into his seat. "You know me so well. How about we even the playing field a little bit?"

She leaned forward curiously. "How so?"

"Give me a little detail on the mysterious life of Mikaela Banes for the last sixteen years." He was curious, that much he could admit, but the guarded look that shadowed the woman's eyes the instant he made the suggestion bothered him.

"It's a mood killer," she pointed out with false teasing in her voice.

"And an alien robot war isn't?" He watched her carefully, noting how her index finger now absently circled the rim of her glass, her teeth delicately chewing her full bottom lip. He wanted to know her story; he wanted to know her again. "Come on, how bad could it be?"

She shrugged, leaning back in her own seat. "It's not bad, per say, not any more... Just not happy. It's lonely, I guess. "

"How about you leave out the gritty details and just tell me how you ended up with people like the Vautzs?" He could probably guess everything that went on before.

Mikaela seemed marginally comforted by the offer, nodding. "Oscar and Gloria… they're special."

"_I've noticed,"_ Sam said with the right amount of sarcasm to earn him a kick beneath the table.

"You know what I mean," Mikaela reprimanded lightly. "I… was in a bad relationship at the time. You know how it goes."

Unfortunately, he did know. The name Trent DeMarco came to mind.

"Anyways, we got in a fight and I decided that enough was enough, so I told him to pull the fuck over and I got out." She took a determined gulp of her wine. "I got out and never looked back

Sam mimicked her action, taking a mouthful before speaking. "You ended it just like that?"

"Yeah."

"In the middle of the desert?"

"I never said I was thinking clearly at the time," she snorted.

They paused as their food arrived, chicken marsala for her and a scrumptious looking chicken parmigiana for Sam. There was complimentary breadsticks and salad, but it was largely ignored in favor of their chosen meals once their stomachs reminded them of how hungry they were for food and not just each other.

The first bite had her groaning in appreciation. Snooty restaurant, sure, but at least the food was great.

Sam watched her with a subtle grin as she pulled a few more faces of food-induced ecstacy before nudging her with his foot. "Alright, enough of the food orgasms, you still have a story to tell," he reminded.

She stuck a food-covered tongue out at him that caused a snort of wine to come out Sam's nose, which had them both laughing and mopping up the mess.

"Alright, alright, you want to hear the rest of the story? I was stuck on the side of the highway for about an hour before Oscar came along and picked me up."

"He picked up a complete stranger?"

"He picked you up, didn't he?"

"Point taken."

Mikaela sighed, tucking stray hair behind her ear. "That's just what he does- he takes in whoever he comes across out in the desert. Doesn't matter if you're a psychopath with your wife's dead body in the trunk of the car; if you look like you're in trouble, he just takes you home and helps you out. Gloria too. "

"It sounds nice," Sam intoned softly.

"It is, I guess… They knew I needed the help most of all, so they put me up in the loft in their backyard for a few nights until I got back on my feet, but when Oscar drove me out to my apartment and that asshole was there tearing up the place-," Sam assumed 'that asshole' meant her ex, "-he didn't say a word. He just put me back in the truck and drove back to his place and told Gloria that I'd be staying with them for a while longer." She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "I haven't left since."

For once not knowing the right thing to say, Sam simply reached across the table and took her hand in his in a wordless gesture of comfort. The smile that graced her face heartened him. She was strong. Stronger than she gave herself credit for.

Slipping her hand out from under his, she patted the tanned flesh and then went back to her meal.

Sam did the same, but kept his gaze on her. "So… what do you do there?"

She shrugged. "Not much," she reasoned. "It's a restoration garage, so all that really goes on is Oscar drags in old junkers once in a while and we restore them and sell them off to the highest bidder. It's a quiet life, but I like it."

"You don't get out much?"

She snorted. "Hardly. I know the city's close, but why bother? It's nice and all the first few times, and then you start to appriciate the solitude of being in the middle of nowhere. And the dating scene… I'm just not interested at the moment."

"How long have you not been interested?"

She reluctantly mulled over the question. "Three years, give or take."

He grimaced. Three years without the intimacy of another human being for more than just platonic loving. _Ouch._

"And friends?" he asked carefully.

She groaned, her head going down on the table. "Pretty much limited to Oscar and Gloria. Everyone else… I don't know. I still talk to them on the phone, and I'll drive out once in a while to see them, but it's hard to do that sometimes."

That was definitely something Sam could relate to. Due to his lifestyle, he didn't have a fair amount of time to make friends outside of the military and alien social circles he ran with. Keeping in touch with anyone beyond that was a bitch. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd spoken to Miles.

Feeling a little putout now, Mikaela reached for her wine glass and finished its contents, and then went for the bottle for a refill and drank most of that too. She dug into her food as well, eating in silence so that she didn't have to reveal anything else pathetic to Sam. His pitying stares were starting to piss her off. If he didn't cut it out soon, she'd put a fork through his eye so he couldn't stare at her with those knowing, liquid eyes anymore.

"I'll be your friend," Sam offered suddenly.

"Oh?" Mikaela quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah, I'm great friend material," he pressed. "I'm friendly, understanding, loyal, great to talk to-."

Goofy, always joking, hands out sexual innuendos like they're candy, murder on her libido... For a moment, Mikaela forgot what was being listed off. Oh, right, friendship qualities. Oops.

"Mikaela?"

She snapped out of her daze. "Yeah?"

He nodded pointedly to the hand he had extended across the table. "Friends?" he offered.

"Fine, friends," she laughed, shaking hands with him as if it were a business deal. Suddenly, the light in Sam's eyes changed, darkened, and the predator reared his head, tugging her up over the table to met him half way, meshing their mouths together. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with her body, but when it did she broke away and stared at him incredulously.

"What the hell was that?"

"Sealing the deal?"

"You're insatiable."

"So I've been told." He smiled a charming smile that had her smiling back, rolling her eyes.

Sitting back down, Mikaela eyed her food, then glanced back up at Sam. Their meal was quickly drawing to a close, but for some reason beyond her she was reluctant to leave. It wasn't that her body still wanted to feel what it would be like to be wrapped around that fine body Sam had grown into. It was something more. Although, she wouldn't exactly mind being wrapped around him... There was an old throb rearing in her heart of something like companionship, the feeling of not being alone. Feeling safe with someone.

Sam seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he suddenly stood from his seat and went to her side, extending a hand to her. "Dance with me?" he asked, a spur of the moment idea. He didn't want the evening to end.

"Dance? Sam, I-."

"Good, come on." Ignoring her squeal of protest, he hauled her out of her seat and did what he'd wanted to do for the last little while, wrap her tight in his arms and hold her close. She whined for a little bit, spouting out things he didn't give a damn about- like the rest of their food was getting cold, people were staring, this wasn't the kind of music for slow dancing- until she figured out he wasn't letting go of his new "friend".

"There, see? This isn't so bad, dancing with a friend," Sam murmured into her hair, turning his nose into her hair to enjoy her scent.

Slowly, Mikaela's body stopped resisting him altogether, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck, pulling herself close to him. "No, it's not that bad."

They swayed together to the rhythm of their own music, oblivious to when their waiter came to collect their dishes and murmured that he was going to put the bill on Sam's tab, completely unaware of when other couples decided to follow their lead to dance. The music changed to match the morphing atmosphere, flowing melodies running together to form a cocoon of soft music that stopped time and simply let the two humans bask in their discovered moment together.

Resting her cheek against the worn cotton of Sam's t-shirt, Mikaela was soothed by the strong beat of the heart beneath. She was lightheaded, but not from the wine. Just as it had been in the parking garage, and in the Vautzs' garage before that, their bodies just seemed to fit together. Everything just seemed _right._ Her arms tightened fractionally, pressing closer, not wanting to dream to end.

Sam watched her carefully, studying the beauty he held. She made his heart beat a little faster, made him feel warm and protective and like he was _home_. She'd been hurt in the past, that much was obvious, but she was still as beautiful as she'd ever been, sensual and strong. The feel of her body pressed against his evoked images of tangled limbs, heat, and thrusting bodies, but he also saw holding her close while she slept, being able to wake up and see her laying next to him, kissing her until she woke up so they could have fun all over again.

How did he go from waking up in the morning not caring where his next lay came from [as long as it wasn't from an alien] to wanting someone so badly his heart ached?

The answer, if there was one, never got the chance to form, because Mikaela's tapered fingers were suddenly sliding up the back of his neck, into his hair, and guiding his mouth down to hers. This time, it was her kiss. She was kissing him. Her lips moved against his in a velvet dance. She wasn't demanding or hungry, just kissing him to explore the feelings that had been brewing between them. Heat. Wanting. _Need._

Sam tightened his arms around her, bending his head to better enjoy the kiss. The fingers in his hair tangled further, allowing him to delve further. They tasted each other, exploring intimately, still slowly swaying to the music they scarcely heard anymore. And then Mikaela was drawing away, taking in a shaking breath, never stepping out of the circle of Sam's arms, but far enough away so that they weren't sharing the same breath anymore. Her honeyed eyes watched him with an expression that coiled desire hotly deep down in Sam's body, pulse singing in his ears.

"I'm not going to be driving home tonight, am I?" she whispered.

Sam kissed her again, touching his lips to hers before looking at her again. "Not if you don't want to."

"I…" she paused, chewing on her bottom lip. What happened to all her claims of not be able to get involved with him anymore? She couldn't handle any more of the war. Searching his gaze, though, she knew she'd never be able to get past this night without having him. Maybe just once would be enough. Get it out of her system and then go home. The hand that rested on Sam's shoulder tightened in his shirt. "I want to stay."

"Stay as long as you like," he replied, kissing her forehead, nose, and finally her mouth, before taking her hand and guiding her to the elevators that would take them up to his suite. He just didn't let on that what he meant by 'stay as long as you like' really meant _forever_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Theshadowcat**- I hope I updated quickly enough for you! Hopefully that cold shower helped!

**Bunnylass**- I swear, girl! Your reviews just keep blowing me out of the water. Your review for chapter five was like one of my inspirations for this chapter- I kept going back and reading it, and every time I did, it gave me more heart to write this one. I am just so absolutely thrilled that you liked this fic so much! Once again, the dedication goes to you, hands down! You definitely deserve it! Thank you so much for the love!

**Just Because He Lives**- Thanks! I'm glad you loved it!

**Dragonflamecrystal**- I'm glad you loved it! Thanks for the love!

**Bluebird Soaring**- Yeah, Bumblebee can't help but mess around with his best human buddy- what are friends for, right? Both Sam and Mikaela have been hurt in the past, but maybe there has to come a point when they need to movie passed the hurt and risk their hearts to love another.

**Obelisk of Light**- I'm glad you like the pacing of the fic. I'm trying my hardest to keep it all straight. Writing romance is a real passion of mine! I'm glad that my Bumblebee for _Serendipity Kiss_ can make you grin like the Cheshire cat!

**Caz-** Sometimes you have to risk a little bit to gain a lot- Mikaela just has to figure that out.

**Lecidre**- I know what you mean about the kiss in the parking lot- I was getting hot just writing the scene! Their little game of hide and seek was one of the best parts to write! Thanks for all the love! I'm glad you like the name "Benjamin Autobahn"- I have a slight giggle-fit every time I write it!

**Violetlight**- Yeah, I know the chase scene is a little unexpected, but I couldn't just let Mikaela take all this lying down. I had to come up with a way for her to fight back a little and to make Sam fight for what he wants. I hate making things easy. ;) And, yeah, this is the chapter where my M rating coming in handy!

**Chloo**- *sigh* Yeah, Sam's a man. He can't help himself.

**Litahatchee**- Love! Love! Love! Love! I send you a whole bunch of love for your review! You'll have to share the dedication with Bunnylass, but that doesn't mean you're any less important! I was bouncing off the walls when I saw your review! Oh, and the wine… yeah, a single bottle costs over $250. I had to do a little poking around to find it. ;) Hope you're still on fire for this chapter!

**Pyrolover0404**- Thanks! If the love keeps coming, then this story will definitely keep coming!

**ScarletEnVogue**- Oh wow- you're addicted, are you? I hope with chapter will help you before you go into withdrawal! There's a lot of romance and heat in this chapter and plenty more to come in the future!

Notes: **_Pretty Woman- _For anyone who hasn't seen the movie, it's one of the best movies you'll ever see, I swear! It's about a man who needs an escort of all these fancy social events and ends up hiring a prostitute, only for them to fall in love. I'm not doing the movie justice with my descriptions, but the movie really is good!

**I was really excited about getting this chapter up, so it's mostly unedited… ignore horrid mistakes if you can. I'll fix them up soon enough. I just really, really wanted to get this chapter up!

**Chapter 6**

Tugged in to the elevator behind Sam, Mikaela could only question her sanity over agreeing to stay the night with the man she'd walked away from sixteen years before. Had the desert sun really, truly cooked her brain to the point where she thought sleeping with a virtual stranger was a good idea?

_I'm crazy. That's the only explanation. Three years without sex has finally made me crack!_

She glanced to Sam for some godforsaken reason, only to catch the briefest look of boyish excitement on his face as he punched in the right number for their floor; it was the same look he'd worn on the night that was supposed to be their prom. Only days prior to that sacred teenaged night, they'd been attacked and laid up on base recovering, unable to go to prom like every other normal American teenager. Sam had spent every dime he had and somehow bribed Bumblebee and a few of the human personnel to decorate up a hangar in the base so that Mikaela could at least have a half-decent prom night. The smile lighting his face when he'd shown her into the room...

_That was the past. This is the present. Get a grip on yourself, woman!_

The doors closed and the elevator jolted up two floors, pausing to let more people on. Shuffled back to the rear of the lush elevator box, Mikaela did her best to take up as little room as possible in the corner. With nothing better to do, she banged her head against the polished hardwood walls. The more she thought about what she was doing, the harder it was to block out the sound of her mother's voice ringing in her ears from when she'd walked in on a fifteen-year-old Mikaela with her latest boyfriend-

"_Mikaela Marie Banes, you are a whore!" _

_-_The accusation stung then, and it stung now.

Her attention was suddenly jerked back to the present by a soft voice in her ear. "Hey, beautiful."

Mikaela jumped, and then managed a shaky smile. "Hey."

Unable to resist the newfound intimacy between them in light of the dance they'd shared moments before, Sam slid his body behind Mikaela's, wrapping his arms around her and laying his chin to her shoulder. He was warm, and he smelled of all the things that made Mikaela think of home… well, home and sex. He was still smiling, which made Mikaela want to smile in return. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned back against his body and let him support her, shivering every time his breath ghosted over her exposed shoulder.

"I'm glad you decided to stay," he said softly into her ear. The sincerity of his voice made her heart melt.

"I…" _I'm probably going to regret this in the morning and for the rest of my life, _Mikaela thought miserably, but the look on Sam's face as he held her and nuzzled into her hair managed to brush the thought away. "I'm glad too." She couldn't decide if she was lying or not.

For a moment, it looked as if Sam would say something in reply, but he simply smiled instead. He could see the distraction in her eyes. Wherever her thoughts were at the moment, they were troubling her. He didn't bother to ask about it, knowing that he would either be brushed off or ignored. Instead, he decided to try to distract her to put her in a better mood.

_I'm probably going to go to hell for this, _he thought ruefully as his fingers traced Mikaela's waist, inching her body closer to his. At first, she resisted. Despite her body leaning against his, she didn't allow herself to be pulled back further.

"I'm not going to bite," he teased.

She huffed, like he knew she would, and allowed Sam's hands to ease her closer to him. He nearly groaned out loud as he pressed her firm body to his; heaven, pure heaven. There was an immensely satisfying hitch to Mikaela's breath that had him grinning smugly. _God, yes. That's what I want to hear! _He let his fingers drum against the taut skin of her stomach, sinking into the warmth of the soft skin there. The muscles underneath her flesh jumped at his touch, quivering. He growled playfully into her ear, playing with the hem of her shirt, daring to tickle the flesh just above the waist of her shorts. When he wasn't denied, he happily continued.

By the 12th floor, Mikaela was obviously sufficiently distracted from her previous thoughts. Her fingers gripped Sam's arms tightly, bracing herself against his body. She wasn't panting, but her breathing was uneven, and her heartbeat danced frantically just beneath her ribcage. Despite the wanting that pooled deep in her, her sense of propriety was still strong. She moved against Sam in a way that indicated that he either bent down to her level so she could whisper in his ear, or she was going to force him to his knees so she could speak to him that way. He bent his ear to her quickly.

"Cut it out," she warned. "You're not playing nice."

He gave her a cheeky grin, laying his lips to her cheek in a heart-stoppingly familiar gesture of playfulness. "I'm having fun," he whispered back. "Aren't you?"

She pressed her body back more firmly against his, forcing him into the hardwood wall. "There are others in here with us," she insisted, jerking her head in the general direction of the 'others'. Several of their fellow elevator-patrons glanced their way, though quickly redirected their glances elsewhere when Sam shot them a dirty glare.

"_Sam,"_ she hissed.

"I didn't do anything," he whined. A devious hand came up brush teasingly along the sensitized underside of her right breast, surprising a gasp from her. The noise was muffled quickly enough by Sam's mouth over hers, his silent laughter reverberating deeply. "There. Now I did something."

"You're an idiot," she snapped back, ignoring the way her nipples puckered against the thin layers of her shirt and bra.

"An idiot with two doctorates," he countered, still trying to cop a feel.

Momentarily surprised by the admission, Sam's hand snuck passed Mikaela's defences and tweaked a nipple. She hissed and batted him away. "Fine, you're a smartass," she growled rottenly.

"That's more like it," Sam replied, sounding annoyingly haughty.

When another stray hand began to roam up her front to tweak the twin peaks, she smacked him away with a harrumph. "This is not a peep show," she growled into his ear. "Don't you care that there are people and cameras watching?"

"Not when I'm with the right woman," he replied matter-of-factly. His arms tightened around her body, dragging her close to savour the feel of her pressed against him. It elicited the most delicious visions of what it would feel like to have her against him _naked_. He didn't dare let her go anymore, if the near-painful tension in the front of his jeans was any indication of how much he truly was enjoying himself. He could tell by the uneven pace of her breath and the way she was rubbing her legs together that she was enjoying herself more than she cared to admit.

Choosing to spare Mikaela her dignity while in an enclosed space with a half dozen strangers, Sam settled his hands firmly at her waist, locking them there. He leaned against the wall and pulled her snug against him, smiling when she tensed, expecting some assault on her senses. He loved how it felt when her body slowly melted into his when she realized she was safe from his hands for now. Even with their bodies thrumming with sexual need, hot and terribly uncomfortable, Sam kept a tight reign of the part of him that demanded he rip her shorts off that instant and sink into her like there was nowhere else in the universe he wanted to be more. To be fair, there really _wasn't_ anywhere else in the universe he wanted to be more. His manhood gave a painful twinge, demanding to be satisfied. He cursed the day God gave men two heads but only the ability to think with one at a time. Sam sure as hell wasn't thinking with the head on his shoulders at the moment.

Mikaela chewed her bottom lip absently, each unconscious shift of her body driving the man holding her a little more wild. She knew he was painfully aroused. Hell, she could _feel_ it. It was like being surrounded by an intangible blanket of raw sexual power. It had never been like this between them before. Sure, they'd had sex before, plenty of sex, but never had they been so consumed with the overpowering need to have each other. Mikaela couldn't even remember the last time she'd been so desperate to have anyone inside her.

Passing through the 17th, 18th, and 19th floors, their bodies fell into an unconscious rhythm, gently swaying against each other in a hypnotizing suggestion of love making. The heat between them was under their skin, in their blood, squirming and alive. They swayed without thinking, eyes closing on their own accord, only for their minds to bloom with images of gasping, straining bodies tangled together. The movement of their bodies was hypnotizing them, making them lose track of their surroundings. It was unconscious and instinctual, as natural as the rhythm of the seasons. Their worlds narrowed down to the contact forged between them. Friction against their skin caused by their clothes and the caresses of the other lit fires in their blood, coiling desire low in their bodies until it was a thick and hot and begging desperately to be released.

As the elevator passed by the 23rd floor, allowing a handful of the others off, Mikaela found she was having trouble forming words around a clumsy tongue. Her mind had been wiped blank, aside from the burning thought of what it would feel like to have Sam's body wedged between her thighs, thrusting into her. She managed to speak on a staggered breath-

"What ever happened to that 'friends' offer- the one we sealed the deal on?" she asked. It was embarrassing to hear that she was panting around the words. "How many friends do this?" She steeled herself to feel his breath on her neck when he spoke, knowing that that might be her undoing.

"You should have read the fine print on the contract," Sam replied, so intoxicated by lust that he hardly knew what the words coming out his mouth meant. "There was a 'friends with benefits' clause. I'm invoking the terms right now." He laid an open-mouth kiss to the hollow where her neck met her shoulder, growling in pure male satisfaction when her knees gave out and he had to lock her body against his to keep her from falling.

"Damn fine print," she breathed.

"It can be a bitch sometimes." He smirked, planting a few more open-mouth kisses along her neck.

By the 27th floor, the elevator emptied completely. Whether or not anyone's room was on the floor or if everyone was just trying to escape before Sam and Mikaela got too carried away, it was hard to tell.

The instant they were alone, Sam lost all desire in being discreet. His hands hardened possessively, spinning her body around and bringing her flush against him. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Had they been naked, all Sam would have had to do was lift her just a little bit to sink into her. The thought alone was enough to nearly throw him over the edge. He could have her coming on in the elevator in a matter of _minutes _if he could just take her like he wanted to. He still remembered what she looked like when she orgasmed- the most beautiful creature in the world, arching, crying out, her body clenching tight around his. As painfully hard as he was now, he wanted to make her feel good; he wanted to make her come as many times as he could just so he could see the release on her face when he did.

"_God, I want you,"_ Sam groaned, leaning down to capture her lips and devour her. No amount of roaring blood in her ears could drown out the pure desire in his voice. For a single second, Mikaela's body tensed, frightened by the intensity of the words.

It was enough to give the man pause.

_Ding!_

30th floor: their floor. Penthouse.

"Mikaela?"

_Fuck! Fuckety-fucked-fuck-fuck! _Goddamn stupid kneejerk reactions! The only thing she could think to do now in the awkward moment was take Sam's hand and guide him out, eyes to the floor because she couldn't sum up enough backbone to look him in the eye. If she had been looking him in the eye, she would have seen a face drawn in concern and confusion.

The top-floor hallway they stepped into was as overly lush as the rest of the hotel- done up in a tasteful colour palette of dark woods, greens, and golds. It was the kind of place that reeked of richness and made the poor feel dirty. The hall was also quiet. Eerily so. So quiet that Mikaela could almost make out the pounding tempo of her own heart.

_God, I want you. _He'd meant those words. He really, truly meant the words with all his heart. She heard the sincerity in his voice. And it scared the shit out of her. This was _supposed_ to be her one night of supreme stupidity where she appeased the vices of lust and greed. She was suppposed to be screwing the man for all he was worth. And then he just had to go and make it sound like someone on this planet gave a damn about her. Sincerely wanted her. Not just her body. _Her._

"Mickey-?" His dark gaze was searching hers. Warm, rough hands rose to cup her shoulders, holding her steady even as her body quivered.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Just tonight," she managed to say, flinching at the flatness of her tone. Her eyes begged Sam to understand. In her head, her mother's words echoed louder than ever- "_Mikaela Marie Banes, You Are A Whore!" _But what hit her hardest was the look of hurt that flashed across Sam's face before he hid it behind a well placed mask.

"Okay, just tonight," he murmured, brushing a kiss along her jaw.

It was strange how those words hurt both of them for reasons neither could fathom.

Managing a small smile for Mikaela's sake, Sam squeezed her hand and tugged her along to the door at the end of the hall; the suite Bumblebee had graciously conned them into. Stupid smartass alien best friend. He slipped the keycard into the slot, and then opened the door when a polite little chirp rang from the lock. He let Mikaela wander in first, holding the door for her like the gentleman his mother had beaten him into being. The distance she put between them allowed for common sense to start filtering back into her brain, making her feel ten times worse than she did when she first thought it would be a good idea to spend the night with Sam. She was _using_ Sam. Just because she was lonely.

Standing in the dead center of the large, open penthouse, Mikaela was struck by how amazingly similar Sam's room appeared to the hotel room Richard Gere and Julia Roberts had in _Pretty Woman_. Open, lush, expensive. Which, in some cosmically insulting way, was perfectly appropriate; Sam was playing the part of the rich playboy of the movie, making Mikaela the prostitute he picks up. Could the universe be any more obvious with its opinion of her? Both her hands came up to scrub her face, a heartfelt _"fuck" _murmured into her palms.

The sound of the door closing made her jump.

"We screwed up royally, huh?" Sam sighed.

"Maybe," she shrugged.

"I shouldn't have moved so quickly, pushed you like I did…" Sam shook his head, leaning against the door. He looked sincerely apologetic. "I really meant to be the good guy, you know."

Mikaela wrapped her arms around herself, finding the AC in the room a little too cold for her heated skin. "I know," she replied quietly. "You were always the good guy."

His eyes flickered up to her kindly, smiling in a way that nearly broke her heart. "Thanks," he murmured back. He watched her for a while longer, marvelling at the beauty and brokenness Mikaela encapsulated. And then he remembered the look of fear that flashed across her face when he'd said something without thinking. She'd never looked at him with fear in her eyes before now. It hurt knowing he scared her. It was a slap back to reality, remembering that they weren't teenagers anymore, they were adults.

They weren't the same people they once were.

Soft, padding footsteps across a lush white carpet caught his attention, had him following a pair of dainty feet as they wandered closer. He allowed his eyes to trace from her feet up her legs, over her torso, and finally resting on her face. He couldn't place the expression on her face. They stood only a foot apart, which was as close as Mikaela dared. She watched him, her honeyed eyes unblinking as she studied his face. He made a move to slide away from the door, thinking she meant to leave, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. The cutest look of surprised confusion crossed his face. She met the expression with a half-smile of her own.

"If you don't want to do this, it's fine. We can just keep talking. Or, you know… you can leave, if you want," Sam said. Despite his size, he suddenly looked like a skinny, awkward teenager again.

Once again the voice of her long-dead mother rang clear in her mind, _"Mikaela Marie Banes-!" _but this time, Mikaela finally thought the words to silence her personal ghost- _"Just shut up, Mother. It's my life." _It seemed the echo of her mother had nothing to say in reply.

Taking her continued silence as his cue to move out of the way so she could leave, he was surprised when the passive hand on his shoulder hardened, fixing him to the door. "I don't want to leave just yet."

"Then what-?"

"Just killing a few personal demons," she said, cutting him off. "I… wasn't expecting what you said in the elevator, and I definitely wasn't expecting to find myself here when I agreed to drive you to Phoenix. There were just a few old ghosts I had to get rid of first, but I'm fine now." She met his gaze with a flicker of flame in hers. "I want this."

"Are you sure? You can still walk away. We can still be friends- just friends. No hidden 'friends with benefits' clause or anything." He knew he was fumbling with his words, but he was starting to figure out that Mikaela did that to him; she brought the funny, awkward teenager out in him, and also made him want to hold her, and protect her, and-

"Don't make me regret this, Sam." She leaned in and kissed him. If a kiss could feel anything like coming home, this one did. _Love me, _Mikaela's lips said as they drew on Sam's mouth. _I'm lonely. _As if the words had been said aloud, Sam knew innately what she needed. He could taste it on her lips. He met her mouth with his with as much heart as he possibly could put into a single kiss- _I'm here. I'll love you. _

This kiss was much like the one they shared in the restaurant, not chaste, but not hungry either. They were just kissing. By some gravitational pull, Mikaela found her body migrating closer to Sam's, leaning into the solid body with such a feeling of comfort that it made her knees want to give out. He felt like he was carved from tanned marble, but so alive and real and comforting. Her arms weaved around his neck, one hand spearing through Sam's short hair to tug his head a certain way, allowing their mouths to fit together better.

Tentatively, Sam dared to reach out, weaving his arms around Mikaela's waist. When she didn't resist, he drew her body to his, revelling in the warmth she brought. Her mouth was _perfect_. Just like her body. Just like everything about her. He loved her mouth and the way it tasted, the way it fit so perfectly with his. He sighed into the kiss, smiling contentedly. He'd never kissed for the sake of kissing in a long time- it had always been brutal, lip-bruising meshing of mouths as a precursor to sex. Kissing for the simple act of kissing was a nice change. A tongue darted out to play on Sam's lips, inviting him to come and play. He obliged immediately, opening himself to her warm, wet caresses, and returning them in kind.

Unable to keep herself still any longer, the hand tangled in Sam's hair migrated to the nape of his neck and pressed his mouth closer. Her other hand traveled up to explore his body through his shirt, feeling the hard planes and hollows of his lean chest and belly. Her touch wandered to the hem of his beaten jeans, hitching up his shirt and skating her fingers along the thin trail of hair that travelled from his navel downward. The touch was light, but it was enough to elicit a full-body shudder from the man. He lost his footing in the carpet and ended up sliding down the door, landing on the floor hard with an 'oomph!'. Mikaela was left standing alone for a brief moment before she lost her own balance and collapsed into his lap with a comical flap of her arms and a yelp.

They paused, staring at each other for a moment, before laughing. This was more like it. They were comfortable with each other again, able to laugh at the stupid things. The embarrassed look etched onto Sam's face was too cute to resist; Mikaela leaned in and captured his mouth again, shifting her body to straddle his. Her hands cradled his face, keeping him close. Sam groaned, giving into the hungry need to explore the woman's body. He skimmed her ribs, traced her back, and when she moved against him, tightening the grip of her thighs, he let his hands drop to her ass and thrust her forward, against his burgeoning erection. They both gasped, thrilled by the sensation that shot through them.

Mikaela broke away from the kiss, gasping and clutching to Sam as if he were a lifeline. With her neck exposed, Sam was quick to move in and press his mouth to her pulse, suckling there until he knew he'd left a mark. He let his hands roam free, straying upwards under Mikaela's wifebeater until they brushed her bra-clad breasts. Under his palms, they were full and firm and deliciously ripe. The friction of his thumbs rolling over her nipples elicited a delicious little mewl, her body arching into his touch, offering herself to him. With the offer on the table now, her shirt was off in a matter of seconds, followed closely by her bra- which ended up flung to the far end of the room. She didn't shy away from his gaze, letting him look his fill until his calloused hands circled around her back and drew her up, his hot mouth bending to her right breast.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he said, speaking directly to her breast.

"I bet you say that to all the topless girls," Mikaela replied, finding that words were even more difficult to form than before.

"No, I don't. Just you." Sam replied, his voice almost like a growl against her flesh. She groaned, clutching him closer. The taste of her mouth was nothing compared to the taste of her flesh. She was honey; heaven; sweeter than angel's breath. He rolled her tight nipple between his teeth and groaned when she unconsciously thrust against him. He could feel the heat coming from her sex. She was hot and wet and wanting. She was coming undone in his hands, freed to the sexual nirvana they were sinking into.

Oh, was she ever free. The sounds of her hitched breath, mewling, and pure sexually-needy moans were the only sound in the room, reverberating off the walls and spurring Sam on to new heights of arousal. He had never been this goddamn hard in his life. Never, in all his thirty-four years of life had the desire to make love to a woman ever made him feel like he was about to lose total and utter control of his _soul_. He wanted her like he wanted his next breath.

Her nails scored into his shoulders, digging deep. He grunted, but paid the burning little mind. Even as her wild hands moved down his back and gripped the flesh there, clawing at the hard planes of muscle, it only served to urge him on. He switched to her left breast, letting his hand keep up his ministrations to the right. Both beautiful mounds needed the right amount of loving. He was more than happy to supply as much love as they needed.

"Oh God, Sam! Yes!" Her eyes were shut tight, head lolled back. Everything was focused now on sensation- on Sam's mouth nipping and sucking and teasing. From that alone, she teetered on the edge. Something deep, primal, powerful was coiling inside her, bigger than anything she'd ever experienced before. Deep down, building like an inferno in her belly, a tingling desperation spreading through her limbs, she was reaching for something fluttering just beyond her fingertips.

Nothing had ever felt more real than now. She wanted this. God, she wanted this!

Lost in the abandon of rapture, she scarcely registered the devious hand now skimming its way between their grinding bodies. A hot, calloused palm appeared at the apex of her thighs, cupping her through her shorts in the most intimate way possible. Her body froze, her heartbeat stuttering in surprise. That was where she needed to be touched the most. The centre of her body that cried out to be touched and stroked and filled.

Sam's mouth stilled on her breast, and then he drew away. The cold air that rushed in made her shiver, whimpering at the loss. Her eyes shot open, searching for his, only to have her gaze captured like a mouse caught in a viper's gaze. He was all but devouring her. A smile crept on to his face, slow and liquid and sensual, and from that moment she knew exactly what he was going to do. He barely moved his hand, adjusting his palm so that his thumb came to rest above the sensitized bundle of nerves that lay hidden beneath her panties and shorts. His smile never faltered, but his eyes darkened into a devious look of lust-soaked possession. Mikaela couldn't even tell if she was breathing any more as she stayed frozen in the man's gaze. Everything seemed to be waiting on this single moment. She rocked a little over his hand, trying to urge him to move, to give her what she most desperately needed. And then he pressed inward, stroking through the layers of cloth, leaning into her mouth to murmur the words that utterly shattered her-

"_Come for me." _

She broke, arching high and wild against his hand as she came. The cry that rose from her lips was the most beautiful sound to ever cross Sam's ears, and the look of pure, unadulterated rapture that captured her face was like the sun itself shining from beneath her skin. She shattered and exploded and came undone at the seams, gripping her body so tightly to his that there was hardly a bit of air between them. It was the most wonderful, heart-stopping, out-of-control feeling to be curling out of her skin and yet anchored to the spot by the warm, living body she clutched to; the universe and all the stars burst behind her closed lids, and yet her world was focused down to the narrow pinpoint of her body latched to Sam's, tangled on the floor right next to the door.

And when she came back to her body, there wasn't a bone left inside her. She fell against Sam's chest without shame, laying there panting in the aftermath of the best orgasm she'd ever had in her life. Gentle fingers soothed through her tangled hair and traced over her sweaty skin.

"That was… that was…" She tried to say what it felt like, but there were no words in the English langue to describe the ecstasy she'd just experienced. Sam relieved her from trying by placing his mouth over hers once again, kissing her with such a reverence that it was as if he were worshipping an earth-bound goddess with his mouth.

"That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen," he whispered as he pulled his mouth away. She managed a shaky laugh, but her body was so drained that even that came out as only a quiet breath. He smiled down to her, cracking a kink in his neck. "Come on, let's get away from the door." He gathered her up, hefting her boneless weight in his arms as if she were made of feathers. He grimaced as he rose to his feet, his own unsatisfied desire raging hard and thick in the confines of his too-tight jeans.

"Sam, put me down. I can walk," Mikaela insisted, squirming in his arms. She could see the discomfort on his face and felt bad.

"I have a half-naked woman in my arms, ready and willing, and you think I'm going to put her down?" he asked her sceptically.

"Fine, suffer," she huffed.

"Gladly." He carried her to the bed on the other side of the room with a haughty smile plastered to his face. Without warning, he dropped her as unceremoniously tas he possibly could onto the center of the bed, letting her bounce there. The mattress alone felt like laying on clouds, and the duvet was as soft as kitten fur. Unwilling to prolong their seperation, he crawled onto the bed next to her, stretching out the length of his body to hers. She managed to roll onto her side, shimming up to him and pressing her thigh between his legs, rubbing there until he hissed and bucked against her.

"Fair's fair, Sam," she murmured, smirking. "Your turn."

"You sure you want to go there?" he asked challengingly, grinding himself to her, letting her know what she was in for.

"I'm not about to back down," she said firmly.

"Good," he replied, smirking. "I have sixteen years to make up for."


	7. Chapter 7

First post of the New Year! Hell yeah! And this chapter's a doozey, too!

**Katanagirl16**- Sorry about the long wait for the chapter! I hope this update satisfies you!

**Bunnylass**- Oh boy, if the last chapter scorched you, than this one is definitely going to melt some brain cells. Or, at least, I _hope_ it's going to melt some brain cells. It really has become a habit to dedicating all the chapters to you for all the amazing reviews you leave, so I might as well dedicate this entire story to you and get it over with. *Ahem* Without further ado, this story and all that it contains is now dedicated to the wonderful **Bunnylass** for all the love and hugs she's been kind enough to give. My dear friend, may you enjoy the chapter! And the rest of the fic!

**Cassiopeia1979**- Well, as long as you're smiling stupidly with joy, that's okay.

**ScarletEnVogue**- Thank you so much! I find that passion and romance are one of the more fun genres to write for. I had a lot of fun writing the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy all the steamy romance I've put into this chapter!

**GBscientist**- An oversight on my part, not changing the rating- terribly sorry. I already said in the AN that the chapter was finally going to earn the M rating, I just forgot to adjust the rating itself.

**Bluebird Soaring**- Speechless eh? The I bet this chapter is going to knock your socks off!

**Silveriss**- I do so love to put my readers on roller coasters, if you haven't noticed by now. There's a lot of sensation in this chapter as well, so beware!

**Obelisk of Light**- Thanks so much for the wonderful observation. I do try to keep my characters in-character, even as I throw them into different situations.

**Nooburu Faita-Yuro911**- Thank you so much! I do try to be creative and imaginative with my writing.

**Theshadowcat**- lol! I hope I didn't make you wait too long for the next update and drove your sanity away!

**Chloo**- Yes, indeed. It was a very long elevator ride!

**Lecidre**- Goodness, yes! Even when I read back through the chapter, it's still as hot as the day I wrote it! The people in the elevator had no idea what they were in store for as Mikaela and Sam teased and played with one another. I'm glad you found the chapter sexy! I hope you love this one just as much!

**WonderfullyMade5**- ^^

**Doubleclique**- Hope you enjoy. ^^

**Jean**- Thanks^^ Hope you enjoy the update.

**Litahatchee**- Ah, my dear friend! I'm so glad you liked the chapter! I'm happy I was able to make you crack up at the funny bits and getting hot under the collar at the sexy bits. You even nailed everything I wanted people to pick up in the chapter- Sam's little sweet moment with the prom thing, and the vileness of Mikaela's mother. Thank God you picked up on it all! We must be on the same cosmic wavelength or something! I hope your enthusiasm for the last chapter continues with this chapter!

**FntsyDncer3168**- There, I updated!

****Special thanks to Violetlight and Litahatchee for their wonderful editing of the majority of the chapter. The last part is pretty much unedited, though I have every intention of going back and fixing it up. I just really, really wanted to post this chapter! ****

**Chapter 7**

Mikaela eyed her adversary, twisting her mouth into a smile she knew would tempt and tease him. "Don't you think you're setting the bar a little too high?"

Sam raised an eyebrow and leaned in comfortably close. "How so?"

"You may be under the impression that you've got some major bedroom skills under your belt, but I'm betting you won't make it past round two with me." She lay flushed and topless on the bed, sporting a smile that challenged him.

Despite how exposed she was, there was no fear in her eyes, which warmed Sam's heart and turned him on a little more. Her eyes spoke in sensuous whispers, causing the pit of his stomach to twist and turn in deep, primal desire. Somehow it had settled in her mind that she was safe with him for now, and he was certainly going to make the best of it.

"Round two, huh?" A warm hand slid down her side, coming to rest on the generous swell of her hip. He liked the feel of the fleshy curve under his hand; it fit there, and enticed him like no other hip had.

Mikaela drew a deep, slow breath, smirking as she watched Sam's eyes immediately drop to watch as her chest rose. It was powerful to know she held so much persuasion over him with only her body; he was a lot bigger than she was, and yet with a single breath she had him distracted. "Yes, round two."

"You…" it took a moment to tear his eyes away, "don't have a lot of faith in my skills, do you?"

She stretched sensually, humming thoughtfully. "Let's just say I still remember your skills from high school."

His face wrinkled as he dredged up the old memories. "Ouch, hit me where it hurts, why don't you?"

Cupping his cheek, Mikaela pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I taught you everything you knew in high school."

He returned the kiss, and then laid one more on her forehead. "I think I might have picked up a few new skills over the years."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Mikaela goaded. She grinned as she remembered their first time, and their second, and third- which all followed pretty much the same formula; hot and heavy kissing, petting, get down to the job, and Sam finishing spectacularly within three minutes. If it wasn't for his insistence on getting his girlfriend off first, the nights would have been a bust. At least by their fourth go at it he'd learned a little more self-control.

"How about I do you one better; I'll put a counter bet on the table in response to your round two limit?" He bent his head to an exposed, puckered nipple, kissing it in a way that the sensation went straight to Mikaela's core. She shifted a little, her body still terribly sensitive. His mouth was gentle enough not to hurt, but enough pressure to make her hot again.

"Depends on the counter bet," she replied, her voice suddenly a little less even.

"I bet that I'll make it past round two," he kissed her breast again to hear her murmur, "round three," and again, because he liked the sound, "round four, five, _six_…" he used his tongue to circle around her darkened areola, grinning when he felt two delicate hands encircle his head and draw him closer. Held to her chest, he didn't feel any pressing need to move away, suckling her offered flesh with the same reverence a man would worship a goddess. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he switched to her other breast, using his shoulder to nudge her on to her back so that he could give the ripe mound the attention it deserved.

"How many rounds do you think I'm up for?" she groaned, arching a little. Sure, four and five sounded great, but six might be reaching a little.

"As many as you can manage without passing out," Sam replied, pillowing his face in the valley between her breasts. It was a rather nice place to be, he determined; warm, soft, and the sound of her heartbeat was soothing. She moved beneath him, strangely aroused by the challenge. Her legs shifted under Sam's weight as he lay across her, opening to allow him to lie comfortably between her thighs. Their bodies aligned instinctually, his straining erection settling at the apex of her legs, the frictions causing them both to hiss and move.

"Oh God." _I haven't felt this good in __**years**__, _she thought dryly_. _Her head fell back against the pillow, hips arching to cradle against Sam's, moving against his thick manhood.

"Not God, Mickey. Just me," he laughed roughly, finding the annoying strength to joke when everything else felt like it was on fire. "And if I win this bet, I swear to God I'm going to make sure you won't be able to walk for a _week_."

Mikaela's eyes flickered open once, then closed tight as a hot, wet surge of energy rolled through her, centering between her legs. She hummed a little, swaying in time to the rhythm of the liquid heat that pooled within her. "Not walking for a week, huh?" Her eyes glittered in the half-light as dusk set around them.

"A week, maybe two," Sam assured confidently. He moved against her, feeling fire in the wake of every point of contact. It was a taking a godlike effort of will not to lose control. He was on fire, suffering from the pain of a trapped hard-on to the point where his mind was narrowing to one thing centered on ripping a woman's shorts off and devouring her. _Must take it slow, must take it slow, must take it slow; _he was going to die of blood loss to his brain if he took it any slower.

"Again with setting the bar too high," Mikaela laughed.

"We'll see about that." He moved his left leg upwards, pressing his thigh to her core. Sensitized to the point of delirium, she gasped, curling into his body. Who ever thought jean-on-jean friction could ever be so_ sexual_?

He moved for the button on her shorts, his long, quick fingers flicking it from its hold. He even dared to tickle her through the crotch of her jeans, but instead of laughter, he caused the woman beneath him to shift, trying to rub her legs together to subdue the tingling sensation. His body prevented her from closing her legs, his narrow hips keeping her exposed to his ministrations. In a desperate bid to appease her own body, one of Mikaela's hands untangled from his hair to move down her body, her tapered fingers seeking her center. As much as the thought turned Sam on to let Mikaela touch herself, he took her wandering hand and pinned it to the bed.

"That's cheating," he chastised gently. "I'm trying to be a gentleman making up for over a decade and a half lost, and here you are treating yourself to a party."

"You're welcome to join," she murmured, smirking.

"Do I get a VIP pass?"

"You have to earn it first."

"Fair enough," he laughed, sealing his mouth to hers. He could taste on passion her tongue, inhibition on her lips. Could a woman taste any better without being an angel? It was intoxicating, like a drug. _No, not like a drug_, he chastised himself, _completely natural_. He was attracted to her with the same instinctual draw every human had for air, for light. Moth to the flame.

Employing a deft trick he'd picked up in a place he'd rather not speak of, Mikaela's shorts were unzipped and down her legs before she even knew it. They were tossed away carelessly, skidding across the armoire before landing out of sight on the floor. Swallowing hard, he looked down, taking in the sight of the last piece of flimsy cloth in his way; definitely not Victoria's Secret. Plain cotton panties, the kind women wore when they weren't expecting sex. He had to chuckle at the tiny ribbon bow on the front.

"See something funny?" Mikaela enquired, quirking her eyebrow.

"No," Sam replied quickly. He played with the tiny bow. "Nice panties."

"They're comfortable." They weren't the lingerie confections she'd dotted her younger years with, but they did their job and breathed right in the hot desert air. That's pretty much all a girl could hope for when surrounded on all sides by hot sun and arid landscape.

"You'll be even more comfortable once they're off." Large hands moved to the thin elastic band, tugging it gently.

Mikaela shivered, liking the feel of calloused digits ghosting over her hip bone. It took a lot of effort to still Sam's hand, urging it up to her mouth so she could kiss a knuckle. "Not yet."

Sam looked distinctly disappointed. "Why the hell not?'

"We have to even the playing field first." Before he knew it, she shoved his back into a sitting position, straddling his lap like an expert. Her hands were already at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards. The anticipation of feeling skin against hot, firm skin was causing all sorts of delicious feelings to erupt in her lower regions. Sam's hands on her own surprised her. "Still shy?" she teased.

His eyes clouded for a bare moment, then shook his head. "Hardly."

She was quick to relieve him of his t-shit, with minimal help from the man himself. He raised his arms, but did so in a way that was oddly distant. Dark eyes tracked her face, watching her expression heatedly, as if her reaction to what she would see meant the world to him.

"_Sam." _With the shirt now lying in the distant ether of the floor, she was quick to turn her eyes to his exposed form, only to feel the bottom of her heart drop out. _Scars. _Not the tiny nicks and bumps she knew of, but new ones that gouged the plains of his lean, wiry body like pale whips of lightning across his tanned flesh. She touched the jagged line that traveled diagonally upwards from his right hip to just under his ribs, mirrored by two other lines on either side, like a giant set of claws. A circular patch of skin no bigger than a small coin lay just above his heart, left in the wake of a laser rifle. Needle-thin lines cut over his abs, slicing through his pecs. An odd scar traced the circumference of his right shoulder, as if someone had taken a scalpel and drew the line using the very tip of the blade.

Of all the things she was aware of at this very moment, it was Sam's eyes on her that she felt with the most searing clarity. He was watching her with eyes that were unfamiliar to her, measuring her reactions with a stolid weight in his gaze. She could practically feel him gearing up for the pity she knew other women would have thrown at him. It was also plainly obvious by the lack of scarring on his arms and face that the condition of his torso was of personal choice. Instead of having them removed, he kept them as reminders of the war he was fighting. The same war she was trying to avoid.

Carefully, measuring her movements, she blinked, and then met Sam's gaze solidly. For all the words in the English langue, she couldn't think of anything to say, so she placed her hands to his chest instead and pushed him to his back, kissing him as deeply and with as much heart as a human could manage while kissing another human. She knew her message got through when a sigh passed Sam's lips, his body suddenly relaxed and pliant beneath her. She didn't pity him, she was accepting him.

"You really are the most amazing woman I've ever met," he whispered against her mouth.

"Shut up and kiss me, Sam," she ordered, smiling nonetheless.

He did kiss her, wrapping his arms around her lithe body and bringing it down against his. She was more than happy to lie across him, grinding pelvis to pelvis. It was his turn to writhe beneath her. She could feel the coiled strength of his hard body radiating through her flesh; he was hot and raging and barely able to be contained in the skin he was in. It felt like playing with fire. She felt powerful and wanton to be riding the storm like she was, her own body seething and wet. Their tongues clashed, curled, danced, fought; her hands moved with minds of their own, exploring the familiar plains of Sam's body and discovering new terrain along his cast of scars and compacted muscle. She loved the fluid, silk feeling of flesh moving beneath her touch. With her fingertips dancing along the patterns of his ribs, she scraped her nails gently, and found Sam's arms tighten against her as a consequence.

"Ticklish," he grunted.

"I remember," she replied, wrinkling her nose deviously. She spared him any further torture by letting her hands trace down his body to the crotch of his jeans. He filled the palm of her hand and then some, thick and pulsing within the confines of his jeans. Feeling more than a little mischievous, she cupped him, and then rubbed. His reaction was no less than she expected of a man as aroused as he, letting out a breath as if he'd been punched in the stomach, nostrils flaring, spine arching. With practised ease, she flicked the button loose from its hold, tugging down his zipper with the air of someone who had done this many times before blindfolded and with both arms behind her back.

The feeling of finally being released from the confines of his jeans was enough to make Sam sigh. Rolling them both over so he was on top once more, he shucked his jeans and let them fall wherever he threw them, though he was smart enough to grab the condoms from his back pocket before he tossed them. His boxer-shorts went next with the same care given to his pants; gone in less than three seconds.

Mikaela swallowed hard, finding it a little difficult to look away from the man now looming over her. He wasn't the Sam Witwicky from high school who floundered about in bed, on the couch, or in the backseat of whatever car (alien or otherwise) they were sitting in. She had to stop making that comparison. He was a man now. And she was a woman. And they were about to have sex. Memories from the old days really didn't fit into the equation.

"So, those growth hormones…"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard _all_ the jokes before," Sam rumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Just making sure."

"Of course." He looked her over, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. He couldn't quite get over how utterly beautiful she'd become. So perfect that it almost hurt to think he'd lived so long without her. It was either from the AC in the room, or from her own arousal, but her nipples hardened into tight peaks, her fingers flexing to ease the squirming heat that crawled just beneath her skin. He smiled hungrily as his gaze landed on her panties, now officially soaked through. They were gone before Mikaela's heart could take its next beat. The lampshade they landed on was rather proud of its catch.

She groaned as the cold air hit her flushed sex. She groaned again as a kiss was laid to the dark thatch of hair. A pair of long fingers dipped in, separating the glistening inner lips so that another kiss could be placed there.

"You're so wet," he murmured, and even his breath caused her to squirm.

What she wanted to say was _no fucking duh! _but what came out was more of a strangled noise that didn't sound like any words she'd ever heard before. It didn't help that Sam continued to make himself feel right at home between her legs, his dextrous fingers slicking down her center, up again, and then playing with fire as he danced around her clit. Occasionally, he'd draw his tongue up her center, which was a kind of cruel pleasure that made stars erupt in her vision.

Despite having eaten dinner shortly beforehand, Sam suddenly found himself famished. One glance up the length of Mikaela's body told him she wouldn't mind if he indulged in a little snack. He liked the taste of a woman's body, being able to sup from her most intimate lips. There was something about the honey of arousal that only drew him more. As his mouth enclosed around Mikaela's engorged clit, he remembered exactly who had turned him on to the taste of a woman down there. Tight hands seized his scalp, trapping him roughly in place by the roots of his hair. He didn't mind. On the contrary, he grinned, indulging himself further by letting his tongue play at her entrance, lapping at the delicate flesh as if it were an exotic fruit from the Garden of Eden. Her thighs tightened on his shoulders, shifting restlessly. He wedged himself in further so as not to be ousted before he was ready to leave.

Wet, panting breaths filled the air with a sense of desperation as Mikaela coiled tighter and tighter in on herself. The molten ball of liquid heat settling low in her core roiled, churned, begging for release. Her body spasmed with a mind of its own. Eyes shut tight, fingers gripping at Sam's hair as if he were her only tie to reality; his mouth on her sex was the only thing her mind and body seemed capable of focusing on.

A light nip to the sensitive skin of her heated inner thigh had her crying out. Sam's answering chuckle vibrated through her, causing a shiver, a whimper. His mouth was deliciously hot, and deliriously wet, and the talent of his tongue was second to none. But however much she lost herself in the delirium of his ministrations, she still begged to be filled by something more than his tongue; the deep-seated, primal instinct to take him into her body and feel him pulse inside her, stretching her. The need clawed at her insides and drove her wild. She wanted to lay claim to him, if only for tonight.

Calloused hands spread her thighs wider, guiding her legs to drape over his shoulders. He took his time lapping at her like a satisfied cat with a saucer full of cream. He showed particular interest in her sensitive little nub, letting his tongue dance around it until he knew she was teetering on the very edge, and then backing away to play somewhere else. A gentle breath of cool air over her glistening nether regions gave way to a moan dragged deep from witin Mikaela's soul.

"Come… on, Sam! Get it- over with!" Mikaela panted, straining to glare down the length of her body to the head happily buried between her legs. "Stop wearing me like a hat!"

He popped up for a bit of air, pouting rather well for a man whose mouth was wet with her essence. "I can't help that you taste so good."

"Glutton," she growled, tossing her head back against the pillow when she could no longer take staring at the hunger smouldering in Sam's eyes.

"Only when it comes to you," he replied, lowering his head once more. When he spoke next, his lips moved around her clit, setting every fibre over her being on fire. "I can't get enough of you."

She whimpered as he took her clit between his lips, and mewled when he sucked gently. The hot, wet suction was enough to throw her into oblivion. Her legs locked, trapping Sam in place, her chest seizing on the breath of air she'd just sucked in. The world suddenly erupted in an explosion on light and colour, her ears ringing with the intensity of the rolling waves of euphoria that were racing through her. Her spine arched to the point of nearly snapping, bones all but molten liquid. The feeling just kept expanding, growing bigger, hotter, spreading through her blood and flesh like a raging forest fire. She twisted and writhed and arched as she came undone in a wild fashion. She cried out, murmuring and mewling nothings into the open air that only ghosts could hear.

Even if Sam couldn't see beyond the thatch of dark curls he was being smothered against, the sounds that were gracing his ears letting him know he did his job right. More than right. God, he was fucking _amazing_. And _Mikaela, _she could make a man spontaneously come by the sounds she was making; there was no other woman on the planet who could look or sound or _taste_ as good as her coming. Being the gentleman that he was, he happily helped her ride out yet another orgasm on the tail of the last by continuing on with his relationship with her lower half. He hadn't seen this side of her for as long as he hadn't seen the rest of her, it was only fair he got intimately reacquainted with _all_ sides of her. Nuzzling, nipping, lapping gently as he helped her reach that second peak, and then delving his tongue into her core to push her over. He listened hungrily to the music of her voice as she gasped. He moved with her body as she writhed. He smiled in satisfaction as she came back to Earth sated and limp.

The fingers in his air feathered over his abused scalp for a few seconds, and then tugged weakly.

_"Sam,"_ she groaned weakly, urging him to move away. She was too sensitive down there for anymore of his fun. Too raw.

He nodded, rubbing his cheek to her smooth thigh before finally rising onto his elbows. When he met her gaze, she was staring at him through heavily lidded eyes, a languid smile spread lazily across her lips.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at Sam's own Cheshire Cat grin.

"I believe that was round two _and_ three," he answered triumphantly.

"You dork," she laughed, grabbing the pillow from under her head and lobbing it at Sam half-heartedly.

The attack didn't phase him, letting the pillow flop gracelessly away from his head. "I call 'em like I see 'em, and that counted as round two and three." He eased himself up her body, stopping to lay an open-mouthed kiss here and there. She laughed when he rubbed his cheeks against her warm, damp chest like a cat. He even did a good impression of a purr just to make her smile more.

"Alright, alright, round two and three are yours," Mikaela conceded, lifting Sam's head away to see his dopey smile. Before she could stop him, he dove in for another kiss, one in which she could taste herself on his lips. He was shoved away for his effort.

"Oh, right- sorry." He tipped his head apologetically as he watched her nose wrinkle. Using the corner of the very expensive duvet as a napkin, he wiped his mouth of all remaining traces of his previous snack. "That better?"

"Much."

They were both sweat-slicked and panting. Mikaela all but oozed over the bed, nothing but a heap of satisfaction held together by the seams of her flesh. Sam, on the other hand, was as tense as a tension wire, almost trembling with the effort it was costing him to reign himself in. He didn't move in on her like a wild animal, though. He loomed above her, watching her with such a sense of pure primal male conquest Mikaela could feel it dancing over her. He was waiting for her to catch her breath, which was a first. If she remembered correctly, she normally had to wait for _him_ to catch his breath. The role reversal was interesting, to say the least. She certainly wasn't complaining.

He knew she was good when her legs suddenly moved, wrapping around him. Treating him to a devious look, she grinded against the burgeoning erection that prodded her lower belly, all but laughing when Sam doubled over from the friction. He was literally seeing stars. He briefly wondered if he'd finally hit the penicle of human sexual endurance, drawn to the edge and teetering there like a sweet and painful agony. He felt torn between spontaneously combusting and exploding. If Mikaela kept up her little number against him, he was going to be doing a little bit of both.

"That's one bad case of blue balls," Mikaela commented nonchalantly, continuing to move against him in a mockery of sex that was having him lose a little more control with every thrust.

"You have no fucking idea," he growled back, using his body to pin her to the bed so as to move himself against her with a more satisfying friction between them. Before he lost his mind all together, he tore open the condom that lay innocuously by his leg, slipping it on with a familiarity of someone slipping on a familiar pair of shoes. Albeit, no man on the face of the planet was as desperate to put on a pair of shoes as Sam was to getting on that condom.

Mikaela wet her lips, eyeing the engorged shaft with some measure of anticipation. She angled her hips against his, rubbing deliciously against him, only to feel a completely raw growl rumble through the length of Sam's body.

"Let me guess… Gentleman Sam just left the room?" Mikaela purred lowly, continuing to undulate against Sam's manhood. He looked very nearly on the verge of madness, his chest heaving to draw in air, his eyes liquid and dark in the dim light; everything about him seemed to be looming over her in the focused way predators zeroed in on their prey.

Moving so that he was poised over her body, the tip of him just barely caressing her entrance, Sam bent his mouth to her ear. "Gentleman Sam just threw himself out the window."

He was inside her in the next breath, devouring her surprised gasp hungrily. She shifted, taking him all in. Inside her was perfection. To fill her to the hilt and feel her walls squeezing him was a wordless ecstasy that had him gasping and shaking. He let his head fall, revelling in the hot wetness that held him while Mikaela panted, stretching to allow his intrusion.

She was the first to move, wrapping her arms around his neck for a little leverage before thrusting against him. What she got in return was a harder thrust and an overload of friction that just about made her nervous system melt. One glance into Sam's face let her know that a predator had taken the place of the man she had been exchanging witty banter and sexual remarks with. She couldn't decide if she liked either side of him more, or if she liked both the charming Sam and the predator the same. When his face fell to the hollow of her neck, teeth scraping the skin, she lost track of what she was trying to think about at all.

Things were unravelling between them. Reality was slowly becoming a little more distant with each panted gasp for air. The melded closer, flesh to flesh, with each thrust. A growling power rumbled deep in Sam's chest as he continued to claim her, urged on by the sound of Mikaela's impassioned cries as she met each of his thrusts with her own. They were each burning beneath the skin, ignited by some ancient instinct to move, to possess. Their mouths clashed, hungry and demanding. Hands suddenly became wild, moving blinding across angles and hollows, curves and valleys. They could barely keep a hold on the other as their bodies slid against the films of sweat beading on their hides. Their pulse was trapped in their throats, echoing painfully loud in the chests. Had they of been listening to the rhythm of their hearts instead of the rising crescendo of their voices, they would have heard the rhythms of their lives syncing.

Desperate to cling to some form of reality, to something stable, Mikaela clutched herself to Sam's body as he rocked into her. She heard him hiss as her nails scored down his back. He thrust against her harder, driving deeper. His mouth was demanding against hers. He tugged on her soul, drawing her out to mingle with his. She allowed his dangerous possession of her body, but clutched to the frayed edges of her soul before she could let it slip through her fingers. She couldn't let that part of her go freely. There wasn't enough of her left to share freely and let it get broken; there was a very good chance she'd never be able to pick the piece up again.

"Mickey? Mikaela, look at me," Sam said, is voice breathless and rough. Her eyes snapped open, instantly discovering that tears had pooled in her eyes. "You're crying." With those two little words, the beast in him was gone, replaced by a man who made her want to ache and cry even more. He slowed his movements, but did not stop completely, watching her with suddenly clear, concerned eyes.

"Sam-."

As if he could read her mind, he nodded against her cheek, kissing away a stray tear. "It's okay," he whispered, the words like ghosts against her cheekbones. "Just let go, Mikaela. I won't hurt you." He kept her gaze as he continued the pace set between them. She wanted to say something more to him, but found her mouth useless at this point. He moved deeply, stroking her core. She tightened around him, struggling to hold tight to the last frayed pieces of her soul.

"Just let go, Mikaela. I'm not going anywhere," he assured.

A silent cry left her lips as she hit her climax, flung over the precipice mindlessly. Her body enclosed around Sam's holding to him, rocking against, as if he really were anchoring her to this world. As her inner walls captured him, moving and pulsing, he climaxed with a short, powerful roar. He spilled into her as her walls continued to milk him. He watched as her head curled back and her body writhed and her mouth worked to form silent words. He felt his world move as her body settled and her eyes cracked opened long enough to gaze up at him tiredly, offering a smile that captured his heart, before she turned her head to the side and prompted passed out from exhaustion. He felt his heart break as a few more tears trailed down her cheeks.

Disentangling himself from the knots of their limbs, he disposed of the condom in a slow, meticulous manner, cleaning up a bit and grabbing a drink of water before wandering back to the bed. Mikaela had not moved from where he'd left her, not that he expected her to wake up any time soon. Carefully taking her limp body into his arms, he peeled the rumpled sheets back and slid her body in first, and then climbed in after her. As gently as possible, he cradled her, letting his cheek come to rest in her tangled, damp hair.

He laughed to himself as he remembered their earlier bet. She was out cold.

"I win."


	8. Chapter 8

**Katanagirl16- **I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. That's my favourite line as well! xD

**Theshadowcat**- A cold shower, eh? Hope it helped!

**Bunnylass-** *w00t!* Two reviews, my dear! You rock! You really didn't have to do that! But, well, I'm so flattered that you did. I have to grin and laugh every time I see one of your reviews pop up. They're certainly like a light to my day! I am so happy that you enjoyed the hotness of the chapter. I swear, I was melting as I was writing it! The intensity was overloading my laptops! And you are so welcome for dedicating this story to you. You certainly deserve the love- with your enthusiastic reviews and outpourings of support, it's the least I can do for a friend like you. I do hope you enjoy this chapter! ^^

**Obelisk of Light**- Oh wow! Thanks for making the exception of Serendipity Kiss. I'm so honoured that you would review this fic even though it's not normally your style to go for NC-17 fics. You're too kind. :)

**Bluebird Soaring**- I was definitely aiming for melt-worthy hotness! xD

**Silveriss-** I'll get the story of the scars soon enough, I promise. When have I ever left my readers hanging? xD

**FntsyDncr3168**- Glad you enjoyed the chapter!

**Violetlight**- Hell yeah! I've knocked an English Major speechless! Another thing I can mark off my list of things to do before I die! xD It's awesome that you enjoyed the chapter so much! Thanks for the love! *hugs*

**Lecidre-** Two reviews, my dear? You shouldn't have! xD Thank you so much~ I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter. And your first view was just fine- you needn't worry too much about spelling or anything, you're review was perfectly understandable. You're too much of a dear. All the love to you, my friend. *hugs*

**WhitlockRN**- Thanks for the hug! *hugs back*

**Chloo**- Oh, I'm pretty sure Bumblebee has some idea what his pesky little human friends are up to. =3

**Theo3983**- Thanks!^^

**Nooburu Faita-Yuro911**- Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Hotness was definitely what I was aiming for! :)

**Chaos Dragon**- Yeah, Sam deserves a few claps on the back after a performance like that! xD

**ThomThom830**- Seriously? You read this whole fic in one sitting? Wicked~ I'm glad you enjoyed the story that much! Hopefully you'll continue to like it!

**Litahatchee**- O_o Big reviews full of love! Thank you so much! *happy dance* Your review touched on so many things that I had hoped readers would pick up on, like the panties bit. EVERY woman has a pair of panties like that, even if they won't admit it. xD It really means a lot that you enjoyed the chapter as much as you did- humour and the hotness. It's your opinion that really means a lot to me. And I'm glad that you picked up on that little bit of female possession of the male that I gave Mikaela. It's all about the empowerment of the mighty woman! Even if Sam got down and dirty with her (and won), I still wanted to show that Mikaela had power to, and could take Sam as much as he could take her.

**Spedclass**- thank you so much! ^^

**Chapter 8**

Perhaps one of the most wonderful things about the aftermath of a night of wonderful, mind-blowing, earth-moving sex is waking up the morning after. There is nothing more delicious and welcome than your body slowly waking from deep sleep to feel the molasses laziness of sexual satisfaction left stirring in the blood, muscles still happily sedated and heavy. Thoughts feeling like they are bubbling in a bath of sweet honey, thick and slow; the world itself paused to match the gentle warmth of the moment. Were the night before to have gone exceedingly well, and both bodies worked into a state of delirious euphoria of sexual exhaustion, upon awakening may bring a sense of wellness that only lazy limbs and tender pink places can bring. Of course, what could easily be considered the most wonderful of this slow process of rising from the most wonderful aftermath-of-mind-blowing-sex sleeps is to find the warm body of the person you'd been with the night before still next to you.

This delight was the sole pleasure of one such Sam Witwicky as he roused from sleep, warm and lazy and basking in the morning kisses of the sun as the windows welcomed the dawn. Splayed next to him, her head on his arm, her hair fanned out in a marvelous fan of dark tangles, one arm over his chest, their legs tangled so that their lower bodies caressed deliciously, Mikaela slept much in a way that made Sam wish she would never wake up. He was not about to proclaim she was the most perfect picture of an angel sleeping- seeing as her mouth hung open a little and a tangle of hair had fallen in and soaked there- but he could hardly do any worse when he knew he was a horrible snorer himself. She was beautiful enough for him. More than beautiful, in fact. She was positively glowing, though that could have been from the sun. Even the muffed snoring breath that whispered passed her lips was charming in a way.

He laughed silently at her, feeling warm and content, stirred to an infinitely calming sense of deep old love. Just as he had forgotten what it was like to kiss for the sake of kissing, to make love to someone he cared deeply for instead of fucking someone to scratch an itch, he'd also forgotten the sense of peace that came from waking with someone he loved curled to his side. It was an old feeling. Not old as in by years of his life, but old as in he felt it deep inside him from centuries of old love, and past couples sharing intimate moments together in the morning light. There was no sense of annoyance when he looked down to Mikaela and saw her sleeping peacefully; if that had been any other day, and she had been any other woman, he would have roused her by now and had her gone, or else she would have left before he was awake. Mikaela laying next to him elicited not only sweet memories of the few times they had had to wake up with each other, but of deep stirrings of a future he had only begun to long for yesterday; not even twenty-four hours ago, he couldn't even bring himself to think about a week or month into the unknown, knowing his death lay one plasma strike away, but now he wished for more mornings like this. He wished to wake up to a warm, soft body next to him, sleeping and protected.

"_Just tonight," _she'd whispered the night before.

That's right; this was just for one night. That's all she wanted. He ignored the twinge in his heart the thought elicited; there was still the morning left before he had to be to the bookstores he was scheduled to sign at, and he was going to make the most of it until then.

Moving as carefully as he could, Sam kissed her forehead first, which was the least likely part of her face that would wake her from sleep. The feel of her skin against his lips was just as sensual as it was the night before, and he knew there was never going be a feeling equal to it even if he searched the world over. Marveling over how much he loved the sensation of kissing her, he slid from her forehead to lay a morning kiss to her cheek. She stirred gently, murmuring something from whatever dream was putting a smile on her face. Emboldened, Sam moved so as to tug back the arm trapped beneath her head, propping himself on his side and smoothing away the hair that had fallen into her mouth. He kissed her carefully, lips to lips, and ignored the case of morning breath they both had. What first was a slack mouth soon became a murmur, rousing from sleep, and then she moved her lips against his.

Sam eased back to the side before they could get carried away. "Morning, beautiful," he said, smiling, loving the way it felt to say good morning to someone and mean sincerely.

"Good morning," she replied softly, squinting a little through sleep-blurred eyes. She was still blissfully half-asleep. Everything, from her ears to her toes, felt warm and lazy and good. "Last night was-."

"Amazing? Yeah, I know." He grinned deviously, watching as Mikaela rolled her eyes, and then stretched luxuriously.

"Glad I could inflate your ego," she said, not lacking in the sarcasm. "Not that it needed any stroking in the first place, from what I can tell."

"Nah, you did some fine stroking of the ego. Best I've ever had," Sam replied, heavy on the double entendre as he bobbed his eyebrows. He eased his way towards her, lazy as a curly-haired lion. "Up for a repeat performance? You stroke my ego, I stroke yours…"

Mikaela's nose wrinkled, still too asleep to want to move. "What are you- a sex addict or something? Give a girl time to recover, or at least wake up." She tried to roll away from him, maybe go back to sleep, but was rolled back before she could get comfortable. She couldn't help the whine in her voice when she protested, _"Sam-."_

He laughed. "Fine, fine, you can go back to sleep- that's never stopped me before." A sneaking hand slithered its way under the sheets, tickling her belly.

Mikaela smacked him away, unable to help laughing at him. "You _are_ a sex addict," she accused lightly. "I'm still worn out."

Sam cocked a smug smile. "So I made good on my promise?"

"Which promise?" she enquired, tipping her head lightly against the pillow.

"The one to wear you out," he reminded.

"Ohhh, _that_ promise." She paused, considering it with an exaggerated look of thoughtfulness. "Yep, I'm still pretty beat. I guess I'm more out of sexual-shape than I thought."

"You just need a bit of exercise to get back into shape. We'll start now, and I'll be your personal trainer."

"You'll have to go solo if you want any action, Sam. I'm sexed out."

The pout that came across Sam's face was comical. "Throw me a bone here, Mickey," he whined. "Sixteen years without someone like you, and several weeks without sex at all- you do the math." The math really wasn't that complicated: hot woman + horny man = great sex… multiplied by 10 to the power of lust and then divided by how many condoms they had on hand. A monkey could work it out.

"Someone like me?" she prompted.

"You know what I mean," he murmured, burrowing into the crook of her shoulder, hoping to entice her into some morning nookie.

"Pretend that I don't," she insisted, curious to hear what the answer might be. As languidly as possible, her arms slid up and gently enwrapped around his head, tapered fingers playing with his mussed hair. She knew what he was trying to do, and let him do it- he was a man, after all. There was no helping him.

"Someone like _you_," Sam breathed, almost reverently. One arm roamed across the bottom of her ribs, curling around, and then dragging her close. "Someone who drives me crazy by just being around."

"Crazy in a good way, or crazy in a bad way?" she asked teasingly.

"I'm still trying to decide."

She laughed, relaxing further into the mattress. "Let me know when you figure it out."

"Will do." He dragged her body even closer, close enough to cuddle and revel in her scent. "In the meantime…" his lips met hers. It was a welcoming kiss, slightly stale from morning breath, but entirely warm and wet, light but not frivolous. Something lingered in the taste, in the movements- nothing rushed, nothing overt or desperate. Something was different between them that hadn't been there the night before. Sam curled close to Mikaela, as if trying to see how much skin he could press to hers, and Mikaela responded in kind, breathing him in, taking what was offered. They kissed like lovers, distracted and absorbed by each other.

_Lovers_

Upon her next breath, Mikaela realized with a thrill of fear the dangerous waters she was swimming in. She'd been so content with the wash of after-sex satisfaction she'd forgotten that this was only supposed to be a one-night stand. They weren't supposed to feel this good, or this comfortable with each other; she wasn't supposed to feel like she could stay there forever.

"Sam-?" He didn't answer, having migrated from the holy grail of her mouth back to the warmth of the crook of her neck, where it looked like he was going to set up camp and stay. "_Sam-?"_

"_What-?" _he groaned pitifully.

"What time is it?"

Puzzled, Sam glanced over to the small digital alarm clock next to the bed. "Just after eight."

"Oh… That late?" Oscar always opened the garage at exactly eight every morning; she was supposed to be there right now. She should have _left_ by now.

"Not really. I don't have to be out of here until ten." Sam shrugged.

"No, I mean…"

He pulled away to look her in the eyes, frowning softly. "You still have to leave, right?" A small part of him had been hoping she'd forgotten about leaving, but apparently not.

"Yeah." Not the most enthused answer she'd ever given. It was obvious to both of them that she was reluctant to part ways.

"Stay a little longer."

She smiled jadedly, shaking her head. "Sam, if you keep asking me to stay, I might never be able to go home."

He hugged her fractionally closer. "Maybe that's my nefarious plot-," he joked, though only half-heartedly. "I'll keep asking and asking you to stay until it'd be pointless for you to leave."

"You'd make an awful villain if that was your nefarious plot," Mikaela pointed out, laughing softly. Her fingers continued to spear through his hair as Sam lingered around her chest, laying with his head pillowed to her breasts.

He shrugged unconcernedly. "I'm more of a good guy than a bad guy."

"I've noticed." In an untimely fashion, her stomach growled. Loudly.

Sam took the cue with delight. "You know, part of my nefarious plot was breakfast. That still sound good to you?"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. I _really_ have to get going- Oscar and Gloria are going to be wondering where I am. I haven't called or anything… Oscar's going to have no idea what to do with himself if I'm not there-." She was grasping straws suddenly, hoping to come up with an excuse to leave, but nothing seemed to be coming out right. Everything was suddenly coming up as a jumble of nonsense in her head.

"You've only been with them for three years, Mickey. Oscar's probably been around a little longer than that- I'm sure he knows how to tune an engine without you there," Sam countered.

"Yes, but- well, we have a _routine_," she insisted stubbornly. She pushed herself up, trying to scoot to the far edge of the bed so she could slither to her feet. Her progress was impeded by a pair of strong hands lunging out and capturing her by the waist. "Sam, don't be immature about this-." She tried to move, only to find that she had to drag him along behind her if she wanted to go anywhere. "_Let go_, Sam."

"It's only breakfast," he whined.

"And last night was only dinner," she reminded, trying in vain to unlatch his fingers. His hands were like vice grips!

"No, just breakfast this morning, I promise. No tricks, no hidden clauses… You can get anything you like on my tab- complete room service deal if you want. Rack up the bill. Buy out the hotel." _'I'm willing to trade in every ounce of my masculine dignity for you to stick around longer. Pity me- I'm desperate. I'm only a man~"_

She finally stopped trying to pry his fingers off, staring over her naked shoulder with undisguised amusement. "You're aware of how desperate you sound right now, right?"

He stared up at her with the most adorable look of hapless boyishness, sprawled foolishly across the bed as he tried to keep her in place. He had a very attractive ass in the morning light. "Desperate times call for desperate measures?"

She tugged at his steel-like arms, but it was futile trying to get him to budge. "This is just sad."

"Pity me, then. Pity-sex is always good." He'd never had to go _that_ far to get a woman to sleep with him, which only showed how much he really wanted Mikaela to stay. He was willing to take _pathetic_ to a whole new level of low if only to have this woman stay with him.

"And what would the tabloids say if I told them what hot writer playboy Sam Witwicky does to get a girl to stay in his bed?" she threatened teasingly.

"Tell them I'm begging and pleading? They'd say I was like every other man on the face of the planet."

She shook her head, relenting with a drawn out sigh. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sam offered a light smile, eagerly pressing his luck. "Eat with me? It's a long drive back- you might as well have something to eat before you leave." _'Pity me. Pity me. Pity me. Please. Please. Please. I'm begging here!'_

She considered the offer, watching Sam's face as he openly begged. Was it right to be so entertained by a grown man begging? Not even begging for sex, but for breakfast. It was too sad to say no to.

"Aright, I'll stay- but only for breakfast." She lifted an arm, took a whiff, and then quickly put it back down. "_And_ a shower."

Sam couldn't have been made happier, breaking every rule of the aloof bachelor's handbook by giving in to the urge to shout out a brief _"Yes~!". _Freeing Mikaela from his clutches, he crawled up to wrap her in a naked hug, laughing as she tried to bat him away. "Go ahead, use the shower first. I'll order breakfast. You still like French toast, right?"

Surprised that he remembered, she answered with a quick, "Sure."

"Drinks?"

"Anything."

"Got'cha."

He couldn't stop grinning, and Mikaela was left in a minor daze. "…Sam, you have to let me go first before I can get a shower."

"Technically, I don't _have_ to let you go for you to get a shower," he replied, keeping her in his arms as he stood from the bed. "Who knows, maybe you could use some company while you're in there…?"

She gave him a flat look. "Order breakfast, will you?"

He sighed exaggeratedly. _"Fine."_

She was released to use the room's bathroom amenities, leaving Sam to scramble for the phone. French toast, normal toast, waffles, eggs, bacon, fruit, milk, orange juice, coffee, tea… anything he could think of that Mikaela would enjoy. There was enough food ordered to feed an army. The fact that the two of them weren't going to possibly be able to eat it all on their own didn't exactly occur to him, seeing as he was only hoping to tickle her taste buds with everything good and sweet for breakfast.

The sound of water going in the bathroom tempted him to follow her in, wash her back, get dirty while getting clean, but he resisted. Sure, he was pushing his luck with breakfast, but he didn't want to push too far and have her run out. He was going to be a gentleman, or die trying. Busying himself as he waited, he endeavoured to collect up their fallen clothes- his pants, which he put back on immediately, her shirt, their socks, bra, his shirt, shoes… the majority of it was slung back to the bed, but the panties he peeled off the lampshade went into his back pocket. He briefly wondered if she'd notice.

It wasn't long before the water tapered off and Mikaela was out; excellent timing on her part, since there was a knock at the door announcing the arrival of their food. Sam hopped up from the couch, darting to the door just as Mikaela eased out of the bathroom amidst a cloud of steam. He took a moment to chuckle at her, wrapped in a thick white hotel robe with a huge white towel draped over her head as she blindly wandered around scrubbing the water from her hair. Happy to have food to deliver, Sam swung open the penthouse door in order to usher in the bellhop. And then he froze in utter horror.

"Hello, Sam-!"

**SLAM! **The door banged shut so hard the entire room rattled.

Mikaela let out a small yelp, yanking the towel from her head to see what happened. "What was that?" she demanded.

Sam glowered rottenly. "Proof that God hates me."

Before Mikaela could enquire over such a cryptic statement, something stepped _through_ the door. It was a very lean young man, tallish, and a tad scrawny, with the brightest pair of blue eyes Mikaela had ever seen, which remarkably matched the bright ice-blue of his hair, gelled up into spikes. The young stranger took a cursory glance around, judged his surroundings, and then fixed a pout in Sam's direction.

"You know, I may not be from Earth, but I've been here long enough to know that isn't how you greet people."

'_Ahhhhh, a hologram,' _Mikaela surmised, settling from her brief surprise.

"It's how I greet people I don't want to see," Sam replied stubbornly, his good mood gone the moment he'd realized who the Autobots had sent to be his drive. He was going to kill whoever ordered this.

In all fairness, the stranger look sincerely hurt. "I thought we'd gotten passed that one time..."

"_Sorry_ if I'm still harbouring some deep-seated feelings of violation. It's not something one easily gets over."

The stranger fiddled with the buttons of his holographic button-up shirt. "Well, you're stuck with me for now. There was no one else available to come."

A frustrated sigh rattled from Sam as he relented. "Fine, fine- I'm stuck with you. But that doesn't mean you have to be _here_, you know. You could have called to let me know you were down in the garage."

"I know, but- well-," the fiddling with his shirt got worse. "I really wanted to see the female everyone's been talking about…"

"Blue, that's not such a good idea-"

Mikaela perked up, suddenly several times more interested than she was before. "Everyone's talking about me?"

The stranger swung around to meet her, his face breaking out into a wide grin. "Oh yes! You must be Mikaela Banes!"

"Yeah, I am-."

"Wonderful! Excellent! I never expected to see you so soon!" The hologram trotted up to her, hand outstretched. Without thinking, Mikaela accepted the gesture, letting her hand be shaken vigorously. "It's so good to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you, know you? It's almost like I know you personally! Isn't that funny? I mean, I've been hearing about you for _years_; there's so many stories and old reports about you. Bumblebee speaks very highly of you, as does everyone else who were involved at Mission City. And _everyone_ has been buzzing about you since yesterday- that's all anyone is talking about on base-."

He spoke without pause, or breath; words started running into each other. She would have stopped him, or at least asked for him to repeat a few things, but it felt impolite to interrupt the Autobot when he was on such a roll.

"And Primus, wouldn't you know, no one has really done you justice! I'm no judge of human beauty or anything like that, but I never would have guessed how pretty you are. Not even your service record photos do you justice. Although, silly me, it must sound so strange hearing you're so pretty from an alien like myself Well, don't worry about it- you're still pretty. I bet you get called pretty all the time by other humans-"

"Um- yeah, sure…who are you, exactly?"

He blinked, drew back, and then looked terribly shocked with himself. "Oh, that's right! Humans don't have resonance scanners to indentify each other with- I keep forgetting that part… How terribly rude of me! I'm so sorry for any confusion- I didn't mean to just barge in here and start talking with you without you knowing who I am, but you know how it is when someone gets carried away-."

Sam laid a firm hand on hologram's shoulder, ceasing the chatter instantly. He turned his dark gaze to Mikaela, shaking his head. "Mikaela, this is Bluestreak. Bluestreak, this is Mikaela."

Again, Bluestreak stuck out his hand, grinning cheerfully. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mikaela."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too- well, sort of meet you," Mikaela replied, taking the offered hand with a lot less confusion the second time around.

Bluestreak laughed. "Well, if you wanted to meet in person, you could always come down to the car lot. I'm the Maserati Trofeo- you can't miss me. It would be my utmost pleasure to meet you in person- meeting a one of the warriors involved in Mission City.

"That's really sweet of you," Mikaela replied. "I'm no warrior, though, just little old me."

"On the contrary! You should hear some of the stories-."

The door conveniently buzzed, cutting Bluestreak off. Sam was quick to usher in the bellhop with their food, and then shoved a huge tip in his hands with a strict order to see that Bluestreak was escorted out the front door.

"No, wait- I want to stay!" Bluestreak protested piteously.

"Later, Blue," Sam bid, closing the door firmly. He slid the bolt lock into place, even if the gesture was completely useless to something that could walk through the door.

Mikaela eyed him expectantly, one brow quirked in curiosity. "That was a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Nope."

"You two have a past or something?" she teased, poking through the silver trays that crowded their breakfast trolley. She was delighted and flattered to find a little bit of everything, stealing a strawberry from the fruit platter and nibbling on it.

"Me and Blue? A past? Hell no." _'There are some things better left pretending they never happened.'_

Shrugging unconcernedly, Mikaela continued to steal bites of everything she came across. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Nudging her out of the way, he pushed the trolley to the far end of the room where a table stood basking in the shafts of light let in by the windows. He was quick to begin unloading the trolley, uncovering the platters and letting wafts of mouth-watering scents fill the air.

"Think you ordered enough food?" Mikaela teased, wandering up behind him to watch the succession of trays and platters.

"I wanted to make sure I got enough. I did wear you out good last night," Sam replied, finishing with the last tray. Snatching Mikaela by the waist, he hoisted her up and set her on the table.

"We're just eating, remember," she reminded him, flicking him in the center of his chest.

"Eating, _right_."

With the morning sun gleaming over her shoulder, Sam was set into a new golden light that played well across his flesh, highlighting the leanness of his body, but also bringing his scars into sharper focus. There were so many of them. Curious, she laid a finger to the very tip of the claw-like scars running down his abdomen, tracing the middle gouge with a distant interest until her fingertip came to rest at the hem of his jeans, slung low on his narrow hips. A single shiver coursed through his body, felt only through the contact between their skin, before he took her hand in his to place a light kiss to her knuckle.

"You're so different from how I remember you," she sighed, tugging her hand back. Physically, mentally…

"I couldn't stay a boy forever," Sam replied, hopping onto the tabletop next to her. This morning felt like a breakfast sitting on the table, not at it. It was more fun that way.

"You're right, things change." Crossing her legs comfortably, Mikaela gathered a plate and started picking out what she wanted from the wide selection around her. A little more fruit, some toast, a bit of bacon…

He watched her for bit, until she shot him an enquiring glance, and then he did his best to start laying claim to the food he wanted. Great sex always gave him an appetite, and this was no exception to the rule. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until a warm whiff of waffles drifted by his nose. He was famished.

They ate in relative silence, occasionally glancing up from their plates to meet each other's eyes, before looking away as they were caught. There was nothing to say anymore, though the silence remained comfortable, light. Sitting on the table rolled back the years to a time when they both found themselves newly graduated from high school and sitting on the Witwicky's countertop after a night of graduation sex (the house having been vacated for the night by an enthusiastic and embarrassingly encouraging Ron and Judy). Neither had felt like cooking much then, so had been forced to warm up leftover meatloaf from the fridge and laughed as they ate it.

They had a brief scuffle over who was going to take the last slice of toast. Mikaela won, trading it for two pieces of bacon and a kiss. Strangely enough, Sam thought he won that round, seeing as he stole a second kiss, and was able to steal a few cubes of cheese from her plate while she wasn't looking. In all fairness, Mikaela was able to squirrel the fruit he'd been hogging.

With their stomachs eventually satisfied, it was an unspoken understanding that Mikaela needed to leave now. She darted towards the bed, dressed in the clothes Sam had gathered up for her, significantly lacking her panties but too distracted to care where they went. As she turned to leave, Sam met her, grasping her forearms gently.

"I had a really great time seeing you again," he said softly.

"Me too. It was nice catching up. I really enjoyed myself- I'm glad you suckered me into driving you here," she replied.

"Anytime," Sam laughed. "Do you think we could see each other again? As friends, I mean."

"Sure, I'd like that. Now that you know where I live, I guess there's no hiding from you."

"Nope. And even if you did try to hide, I know some pretty good intergalactic scouts who could find you."

"There's no hiding from Bumblebee," Mikaela said with a roll of her eyes. She glanced to the bedside clock, noting that it was around quarter after nine. "I really have to get going now, Sam." She stepped around him, heading for the door.

"Wait-." He trotted to the bedside, grabbing the complimentary pad of paper and pen left there and scribbled something out. Ripping the page off, he came back to her and pressed it into her hands. "Here. Just in case- you know, you ever want to get together out of the blue or anything."

Glancing down at the crumpled sheet, Mikaela noted a mess of numbers- home phone, cell phone, office, and military extension. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Sam." In return, she leaned up and laid a sweet kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a moment too long, before coming back to the ground and stepping towards the door. "I'll call sometime."

"Feel free anytime," he insisted, forcing a smile to his face when it felt like his heart was slowly sliding down the inside of his ribcage. There was no pressing his luck anymore. This was the limit. They had to say goodbye.

The door opened, letting her step into the empty hallway. "See you around?"

"Sure."

The door closed and she was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

So, here's a weird question everyone- has anyone watched the '07 TF movie recently and have a fangasm the moment Peter Cullen's voice comes over the speakers? 'Cause that's what happened to me the moment I put the movie on to reference the opening lines; Peter Cullen starts starting in Optimus Prime's voice, and I spontaneous fangasm into a pile of gibbering fan-girly goo. Now I'm wound up so tight for _Revenge of the Fallen_, I might end up crying in the theater the moment the lights go down for the movie. I'm even freaking out a little right now. That's how excited I am! I am so not going to make it until June.

**Theo3983**- That's kind of mean to force Mikaela into something she doesn't want any part of… I think it should be her choice whether or not to participate in the activities of an alien war… ^^;

**Katanagirl16**- Yeah, the ending was a little sad, but the begging is full of win. Grown men begging always make my day! xD

**Elita One**- Sam wanted her to stay, but sometimes life doesn't allow things like that. *sigh*

**Violetlight**- Oh dear! Something terrible to happen on her way home? How terrible of you, Violet! You're going to give me nasty, angsty ideas if you keep that up! xD I'm glad you liked my depiction of the morning after- I did my best to convey the lazy contentment they were bound to feel after a night of good sex.

**Bunnylass**- Awwww, thanks so much for the wonderful review my dear! It certainly looks like you enjoyed yourself, even without the mind-blowing sex. xD It is so amazing that you're enjoying the story thus far- this is one of the most fun stories I have ever gotten to write for, even though there is hardly any giant alien robot action in it. The romance between the humans is still fun- romance in good old fashioned Hearts of Eternity style, where nothing comes easily, and you pretty much have to chase it down and beat it with a frying pan for it to stay still for you. Those kinds of loves are always the best! xD

**Theshadowcat**- No, last chapter wasn't the end. To be honest, I don't know where the end is. ^^; Maybe sometime in the future, but not now, at least.

**Caz-** I think everyone was relieved not to see a "The End" at the end of the page, even me. There's still so much story to tell!

**Lets go for life won't wait**- Thank you so much. I try really hard to keep a good amount of realism in my works so that it remains relatable to my readers. I'll do my best to keep it up in the future.^^

**Bluebird Soaring**- Yeah, close one with Blue… hehehe. He might not have had a chance to chat about his interspecies relationships then, but you never know where the future might lead… xD

**Spedclass**- thanks!

**Lecidre**- 16 years without sex would be enough to make anyone a little bit of a sex-addict if given the chance with a hot woman, don't you think? I had the most fun with Bluestreak's appearance, though- I was tempted to let him show up as a sexy woman, but I think it worked out better to have him show up as a man. It will be interesting to see how Mikaela tried to deal with her relationship with Sam in future chapters. To be brutally honest, I don't even know where it will go! ^^;

**Jean**- Thanks!

**Silveriss**- Bluestreak for the win!

**Thomthom830**- Thanks so much!

**WhitlockRN**- *hugs*

**FntsyDncr3168**- Awwww, cheer up! She's not as gone as you think.^^

**Edward-mountain-is-so-real**- Wow, this is the first Transformers fanfic you've ever read? I hope your other experiences are as good. ^^

**Obelisk of Light**- Oh yes, she's only gone for now~ Who know about the future. ]:3

**Litahatchee**- your review is for the win! xD I saw it and just about hit the roof in excitement! Thank you so much! You touched on all the things I wanted to highlight in the chapter, like the lovely fluffiness in the beginning, the funny banter, and BLUE! xD You totally made my day by writing a review like that! Thank you so much! You're the best! *hugs*

***sigh* I do hope everyone enjoys this chapter. I had quite a time pulling it out piece by piece from my brain. The next chapter will be much better, I promise~**

**Chapter 9**

'_Well, this sucks…' _

Sam groaned, falling back to the rumpled duvet with his arms spread, damp steam still drifting from his recently-showered body. Everything about the situation sucked. His shower, though delightfully hot and cleansing, had been too quiet and _lonely_. It didn't help that it smelled vaguely of her, which was like salt in a very fresh wound. Getting out, the bathroom itself had been too _empty_. The hotel room itself was now too big for just him. It was a room meant for two people, not one. Now he was alone, damp, slightly sexually frustrated, and _miserable_. Oh, and let's not forget missing Mikaela. Twenty minutes out the door, and he already missed her like dog missed his owner. Without a doubt, it meant that he was about to have the longest, most miserable day humanly possible- full of packed bookstores, jostling people, and scribbling his name into well-loved, dog-eared, yellow-paged editions of his books. On a normal day, sitting for hours at a time pretending to smile at a bunch of strangers was taxing enough- doing it while wanting the woman he'd just spent the night with was going to be hell.

He turned his head listlessly to check the time, finding that he had about another twenty minutes before he had to be at _Barnes & Noble_. His gaze then landed on his discarded cell phone sitting innocently next to the clock. He could call in and say he was sick, like he'd suddenly come down with a case of severe food poisoning and was puking up his guts, or that there had been some timing mix-up and he had thought the signing was tomorrow. It could work, if he spun the story the right way. He had never called in sick for anything a day in his life since high school, so one day wasn't going to kill him, right? Hell, he was even a writer- what were writers good for if not telling lies for a story. It was tempting. Very, very tempting.

But, in the end, he rolled over and reached for his pants.

'_Work. Work-work-work-work. That's all I ever do. Do I even have a life?' _He took a second to think about it, and then took a couple more seconds when he realized just one wasn't going to cut it. He came up with ambassadorial duties, scouting missions, writing reports, infiltration missions, writing his novels, engaging with the Deceptions, picking up women to scratch a sexual itch, jetting all over the world, and generally going about his daily life in a haze of work, work, work, and _more_ work. Conclusion: Sam Witwicky had no life. And the moment he did seem to be getting some form of a human life back, in the form of Mikaela Banes, he let her walk right out the door. Well, in his defense, he couldn't exactly tie her down and keep her captive for the rest of her life (although the thought did cross his mind), but he at least could have tried harder to get her to stick around. Been more of a gentleman, maybe? Begged a little more?

'_I'm an idiot,' _he admonished grimly, more than a little self-loathing at the moment. "_I should have been more careful… I shouldn't have pushed like I did. Dinner and sex were too much. I should have just stuck with dinner. We haven't seen each other in fucking 16 years and all I end up doing is thinking with my dick.' _He looked down, focusing in that particular part of his anatomy. _'This is your fault.' _

As he expected, he got no answer. That didn't stop from some mentally-whipping himself a little more. Yes, he was a man, and he liked sex as much as anyone. Sex with Mikaela was better than he could ever dream. It was more than that, though. They both felt it. Not just sex, but making love. And now she was gone, and he could do nothing about it. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. If he had the chance to have a little more time with, sure, he'd take it like a pig would take a roll in the mud. In reality, he was just plain screwed.

'_I shouldn't have let myself fall back in lo-.' _

He paused, fingers frozen on the buckle of his belt. _Love. _He was about to think the word _love_. He scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to steel himself for the thought. Could he really have fallen back in love so quickly? Just one night? A handful of hours? Was it even humanly possible to do something like that?

'_Not unless I never fell _out_ of love with her in the first place.'_

With his pants on, he shrugged into a light cotton shirt, formal enough for a public appearance, yet semi-casual enough to not scare off his readers. His train of thought was enough to keep him thoroughly distracted as he chose a pair of socks, ending up with a mismatched pair, and then absently patting around for his keys before he remembered that _he_ wasn't the one driving.

'_Me- still in love with her? Sixteen years and I'm still in love with her? _There was a mirror by the door, which he checked himself in before leaving- straightening his collar and attempting to smooth back his hair, which always seemed to like curl everywhere except into a respectable haircut. The man he recognized as his reflection was handsome, mature, and charming, now with the words 'sucker' written across his forehead as he came to the conclusion that, yes, he was still in love with Mikaela, and, yes, he was an idiot. The latter of the two was decided rather quickly as he tugged back the collar his shirt to reveal the thin scar that ran the circumference of his shoulder. Seeing it brought him back to reality pretty quickly. _'God, Witwicky- stop fucking around with yourself. _Move on_. She doesn't want any part of the war- and you're a walking testament to it. By default, she doesn't want you. Get over her like you have every other woman. Last night was just that; last night.'_

Even as he told himself that, he knew Mikaela wasn't like every other woman he'd slept with. She was different. _Special._ He wanted more of her, not just memories. She made him _feel_… She made him feel _alive_. Was that so ridiculous to think of a woman he had only laid eyes on yesterday afternoon after a long absence?

He found himself in the elevator without having any recollection of walking to it. As the lift made its way down, a few more people climbed on, shooting Sam some unusual looks. He vaguely recognized a few of them as the unfortunate audience that had been trapped in the elevator the night before when he and Mikaela…_yeah_. Not quite embarrassed, but aware of how uncomfortable his fellow elevator riders might be, he nodded to them with a charming smile to clear the bad air in the polished lift. They nodded back, smiling awkwardly, and then pointedly looked somewhere else when they remembered that staring was rude.

By the time he wandered into the lobby, he was already talking himself out of even pursuing the friendship he desperately wanted to spark with her. She was hurt, and he didn't want to hurt her further by bring the war back into her life. _'Sure, she has my number, and I could easily get her number- hell, I know where she lives… We could be friends, but that's still dragging her into this. She deserves something more than fearing for her life every day. I don't want to drag her into this again, not after so long of living her life relatively safely- well, safer than I've been living my life, in any case...' _

He stepped out into the courtyard of the hotel, wrinkling his nose as the smell of the city and mid-morning heat hit him in the face.

"Good morning, Mr. Witwicky!" one of the valets called with a jovial wave. "Would you like me to get your car for you? The Maserati that rolled in this morning looks fantastic!"

"Oh- huh? Good morning… Uh- no, I'll get the car myself, thanks," Sam said in reply, more on reflex rather than good manners. He wandered off with his mind elsewhere, leaving a slightly bewildered valet crew behind- they knew Sam as one of their best patrons, always rolling in with a hot car, and always more than happy to chat with them for a bit when everyone else just blew them off. Figuring he had had a busy night with the hot chick he'd come in with, they waved him off and let him walk into the car lot without a fuss.

'_It's better that she's gone, right? I mean… Sure, I want her so badly I can taste it, but at least she's not at risk of an attack if she's out of the picture…' _

"Blue, where are you? I have to get going," he called out into the relatively empty car lot. A few humans were milling around, but, as usual, they assumed he was calling out to another human in the lot, not a giant alien robot disguised as a car.

"Over here, Sam!" The Autobot called cheerfully, his horn giving a light chirp. A bit of movement to Sam's right caught his eye, causing him to turn and see Bluestreak's hologram perched on his own hood, waving. He wasn't alone, either.

With his heart just about jumping out of his throat, Sam trotted up to the ice-blue Maserati, stopping short when he couldn't bring himself to come within a few feet of the woman standing with the alien.

"Mikaela?"

She obviously hadn't meant to be there when he came out to go to work, made clear by the deep flush of colour that darkened her cheeks as he graced her with a quizzical look. She fidgeted, averting her eyes. "Yeah, um…"

"I thought you were leaving," he said, trying to gauge her. He looked to Bluestreak's hologram, who shrugged good-naturedly.

"You know how it is, Sam. Me and Mikaela here got to talking a little, one thing led to another, and before we knew it, we were having such a great time that we completely lost track of time!"

Mikaela's look of exasperation said otherwise. A closer account of what happened probably involved saying hello to Blue as a polite thing to do, and then getting trapped as the Autobot took the opportunity to talk her ear off. Mightier people have tried and failed in the past to walk away from Blue once he starts talking, but the alien had such a gift for the gab that he was like a black hole, sucking everyone in with no hope of escape. Mikaela hadn't stood a chance from the moment she said hello.

Clearing her throat, Mikaela shoved her hands in her pockets and straightened her spine, wiping away any look of exasperation in favour of looking like she could stand her ground. "Yes, well- it looks like I really should get going now. I've hung around long enough, and I just want to get home-." Her right hand fisted in her pocket, crinkling the slip of paper Sam had handed her earlier with his numbers on it. He didn't miss the move, and even grinned a little. She was hesitating, he could see that; having been trained for interrogation, he'd long since learned to read people, and he could see Mikaela's reluctance to leave as clearly as if she had said the words out loud. She didn't want to leave. Not really. Not deep down. And that's all Sam had to know. He was more than happy to give her an excuse to stay, at least for a little while longer.

"I guess if you're going to leave, I might as well say good bye for the last time," he said, opening his arms to invite a hug. It was gratifying to find that she didn't hesitate to step into the circle of his embrace, allowing him to wrap her in a tight hug. He loved the feeling of her in his arms. It made him stupidly happy when she hugged him back, holding him for a fraction of a second before releasing, wishing to step away. Stepping back, he placed a kiss to her forehead, grinning to himself in congratulations as he fisted his stolen prize.

"Don't you have to get to your book signing?" she asked, one eye brow quirked.

"Yeah, I do. Don't want to be late, now do I?" He started to trot off towards the back of the car lot.

Mikaela's brow furrowed, watching him wander away. "Hey- wait, Blue's right here. Where are you going?"

No longer able to contain his grin, Sam spun around with a laugh. "I have an alternate mode of transportation for today." Swinging from his index finger was very familiar looking set of keys

A horrified gasp spluttered from her mouth, hands flying to her pockets to confirm that her keys were gone. Indeed, they were. In their place was the keycard to Sam's room. "You _didn't_ just do that."

"Oh yes, I think I did." He swung the ring of keys merrily, letting them flash in a mote of light.

"Sam, gimme back my keys," she growled, hand out. She advanced one step, which Sam matched with a step back of his own.

"Why? Finder's keepers, right?"

"You didn't find them, you little rat- you stole them from my pocket! Now give them back!" Mikaela hissed. It was a little unnerving to think that Sam has somehow weaseled his way through all her pockets without her even feeling a thing. Impressive, yes. Creepy- more than a little.

He tossed them between his hands, looking deceivingly thoughtful. "You know, I can see it on your face that you don't want to leave, and I know _I_ don't want you to leave, so…" catching the flashing keys midair, he turned on his heel and made a break for the old Ford collecting dust at the back of the lot. "Guess you'll just have to stay here!"

"Dammit, Sam!" She bolted after him, falling hopelessly behind as his track star speed outpaced her like lightning to a snail. He was in her truck with the doors locked before she even hit the back wheel. By the time she was banging on the driver's side window, the truck had roared to life and was vibrating excitedly, as if it knew of the game going on between its owner and the man now sitting in the driver's seat.

"Unlock this door this instant!"

"Why? So you can pound my face in? I'm fine where I am, thank you."

"Get out of there right now! I swear to God, when I get my hands on you, I'm going to wring your neck! Worse- get out here right now so I can _snap _your neck!"

"You really suck at negotiating," he teased, not at all phased by the blatant threats being flung at him. He'd had worse.

"Negotiate this!" She smacked the window hard enough to rattle the glass dangerously, but never hit it hard enough to break it. The Ford was her baby. Sam, on the other hand, was not, which meant she had no reservations about breaking his face the moment she got her hands on him. She'd give him a whole new batch of scars!

"Come on, Mickey- you and I both know that you don't want to leave," he laughed.

"That's where you're wrong, Sam. I want to leave! Right now, in fact! I want to leave _right now_, so you better get the hell out of my truck!"

He stared out at her with the widest grin to ever split his face, unable to stop himself from showing his delight. She was rather sexy when she was mad- even more sexy than he remembered her when they fought in the past. He kept in mind that, yes, there was going to be an end to their game. He couldn't keep this going forever, but one more day together wasn't going to kill anyone. If Bluestreak's insane talking-streak was enough to give him a second chance, he was going to take it; just one more day to feel normal again. To feel like a _human being_ again.

"I know this is asking for a lot, Mickey, but can you do this just for me? Just one more day?"

"_Sam-."_ Her growl threatening enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"I'll make it worth your while, I swear!" He grinned even wider as he remembered one of her weaknesses from their teen years. "I'll even buy you a cookie- a big cookie! A big, fat chocolate chip cookie. With extra chocolate chips!" He started to reverse the old Ford out of its parking space, forcing Mikaela to back away.

"You can't keep pulling things like this, Sam! We're both adults! Start acting like one!"

Before swinging the truck into driving and puttering off, Sam blew her an exaggerated parting kiss, and then pulled out of there as fast as he could before she really did put her fist through the window.

"_I Hate You!"_ she screamed after him, her voice reverberating off the concrete ceiling and floor. _"I'll Kill You, Sam!"_

He was howling by the time he hit the street, almost completely impaired from laughing so hard. That was more fun than he thought it would be. He could even see her in the rearview mirror, chasing after the tail of the truck until he turned the corner and let her fall behind. He was risking everything by doing this- not just his heart, which he had pretty much put on the line last night with her, but his sanity as well, and a lot of his worldly possession, which he had left up in his room. He was risking his tenuous friendship with her. It was worth it, though, if only to have her stay a little longer.

And if Mikaela _really_ wanted to go, she could always ask Bluestreak for a drive.

* * *

"That jerk! That selfish, depraved little bastard!" She was practically seething in her own ire as she stomped back into the car lot. "I'll kill him when I get my hands on him!"

"Didn't catch him?" Bluestreak asked needlessly.

"No!" Mikaela snapped angrily.

"You really want to leave that badly, huh?"

She raked her hands through her hair in frustration. "I want to go _home, _Bluestreak."

"Well, he'll be back in a few hours- you'll be able to go home then." He seemed to be missing out on the fact that she wanted to be home, in the Vautz's loft right that minute. Not in couple of hours. _Now._

"You're not helping at all, Blue," she seethed, pacing about.

The Autobot raised his hands, fending the human female off. "I didn't mean any offense. My apologies. I realize that this must be a frustrating situation, seeing as you've essentially just been robbed."

A disgusted sigh blew from between her lips. "Yeah, I _was_ just robbed, but that's not even the half of it. With you, and Sam, and Bumblebee- _everyone_…I don't know what to do anymore." The fact that she was suddenly pouring her heart out to an alien that was basically a stranger to her was not lost on the human, either.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bluestreak offered.

For a moment, she looked tempted, but at the last minute shook her head decidedly. "No offence, Bluestreak, but I only met you a little while ago. I don't think you deserve to get dumped on with all my problems."

Bluestreak's hologram hopped off the hood and wandered over to her, placing a rather realistic hand to her shoulder. "I may be a talker, Mikaela, but I'm also a relatively good listener- and it seems I'm going to be stranded here just as much as you are, so if you do feel the need to talk-."

She waved him off, stepping out from under his hand. "No, no, I'm good. Look, Sam and I- it's weird, okay? He just showed up out of the blue yesterday, we screwed around, had a good time, but we both need to get back to reality now. I need to go home and get this sorted out. It'd be nice to be friends with him, maybe- catch up from time to time, but with everything else… I don't know."

"If you feel so strongly about the situation, I could always escort you home," Bluestreak said, motioning to his alt mode.

The Maserati disguise was a beautiful one, with smooth curves and glinting edges, a powerful engine waiting to rev to life beneath the hood. He could get her home in half the time it would have taken if she drove herself. It was a tempting offer. Such a very, very tempting offer. The only downside was-.

"You know, if I escorted you home, we could always get to chat more. Wouldn't that be lovely? I'd love to hear a little bit more about your life, what it was like when you were involved with Sam and the Autobots, and what you've been doing since. There are so many things I'm still curious about concerning everyday life with humans. Sure, I've learned a lot, but one can never learn too much about the planet they're now living on, right? And I'm most interested in learning about you- Oh! But that's not to say that you're just a test subject to be studied or anything… I didn't mean it in a rude way like that. It's just, well, you know what I mean, right? You're more than welcome to ask anything you like about me! I'll tell you anything at all-!"

Oh yeah, that was the downside of getting a drive home with Bluestreak. _Talking_. She'd rather take her chances waiting for Sam to get back with her own truck so she could drive herself, and perhaps run him over a few times before she left.

Knowing there was no point in waiting for Blue to stop talking, Mikaela did the first thing that came to mind. She reached up and pinched his holographic lips together, muffling him at first as he still attempted to talk, but once he got the hint, he quieted, looking a little embarrassed. Once sure there was going to be silence when she released his mouth, she did so, stepping back.

"Sorry about that- I just had to get your attention," she apologized, shrugging. "I'm going to go upstairs, okay? You can either stay here, or you can follow me up."

The hologram laughed a little, fiddling with the buttons of his holographic shirt. "Oh, sure, I'd love to come up! It's better than sitting out here all day by myself…"

Mikaela smiled, nodding. She hoped what she said next wasn't going to sound rude. "But you gotta tone it down a little if you're going to hang out with me, okay? Talking is fine, just not constantly."

Thankfully Bluestreak didn't appear to take offense. He did look a little flustered, though, like it wasn't the first time he'd been told that. "Oh- yeah, I understand… Sorry, I just get so carried away sometimes. It's like a defense mechanism, y'know? I don't know when I'm getting carried away, it just happens sometimes… I know it annoys other people, humans and bots alike, but, well, what can you do? I'll do my best to try and keep myself in check, as much as I can... I don't want to annoy you too badly today, having just met you and all, and you already having to deal with Sam stealing your truck-."

"Ah, Bluestreak?"

"Oh, slag- I was doing it again, wasn't I?"

"Yeah, a little bit."

His alt mode twittered in embarrassment, shifting on his wheels. "Sorry."

Mikaela shrugged, taking his holographic hand and tugging him along. "Come on, no point standing around here, right?" Together, they made their way up to the penthouse, Bluestreak managing to be somewhat quiet, and Mikaela finally able to suppress some of her rage and begin to channel it to plans of murder in the near future. By the time the keycard slid home in the lock and they were granted access to the room, she had already concocted a list of plans- poison, smothering, and running Sam over with her truck all included. She liked the idea of running him over the best; there was a sense of sweet irony behind it.

Bluestreak wandered over to the couch, flopping down on it and bouncing a bit. "I'll never get used to all your amenities- everything's so soft around here. I don't mind it, but it's different." He bounced a little more, clearly enjoying himself.

"It must be hard being a giant alien robot living in a tiny organic world," Mikaela said, wandering over to the arm of the leather-upholstered couch and perching there.

"It's difficult at times, yeah- especially when you want to go places with your human friends, but you're way too big to even try." He held up a hand, distinctly human looking, albeit a little too reflective in the sunlight- almost pixilated if one were to look hard enough. "Holograms help, and all of us Autobots have been working really hard to get our holograms just right, but it's not the same as being there in person. We're still always stuck in a parking lot somewhere. I don't know if you'd understand it or not…"

She shrugged, smiling vaguely. "I think I understand what you're saying." She slid to the cushions, bringing her legs up to her chest and staring at the hologram with a certain amount of interest. He stared back openly, happily. "Do you mind if I touch your hair?" she suddenly asked.

"Oh, my hair?" he ran a hand through the blue spikes, and then laughed. "Sure, why not?"

Mikaela petted the blue locks with the tips of her fingers, finding them charmingly soft, not hard with gel as normally spiked hair would be, or even dried out from the dye. Bluestreak was just a hologram, after all; his hair could be anything he wanted it to be, naturally blue, and defying gravity without assistance included.

"Weird," she breathed.

Bluestreak simply smiled. "We use our holograms so much on Earth, it seemed a waste not to personalize them. I like the blue hair, even if I get reprimanded every time I use it; not a natural colour, after all. I stand out too much." He shrugged. "I don't think I do, though- not when standing next to some other bot's holograms, at least. Sunstreaker's especially. He doesn't even look relatively human! I mean, there was a day we were driving by a church with our holograms in place, and a couple humans caught sight of him and thought he was an angel."

She laughed, remembering Sam had mentioned an Autobot named Sunstreaker who liked to show off. "I bet that was a pretty interesting day."

"It was. We practically had to drag Sunstreaker away before the humans started worshipping his hologram." He glanced to the television, blinked, and suddenly it switched on, filling the room with a low murmur. "Do you mind? I'm used to having a bit of background noise. It's way too quiet with just the two of us."

"Oh, that's fine," Mikaela shrugged. She was quiet for a short moment, watching the morning news channel Bluestreak had left the TV on, and then decided that she would much rather be gathering a bit of blackmail on Sam, and who better to ask than a bot who'd presumably been around him for a while. "So, I take it you and Sam know each other pretty well, huh?"

"Me and Sam? Oh yes, we go way back. He was one of the first humans to greet me when I first came to the planet."

"Would you say you're close?" she wheedled.

"Well, _I'd _say we were close, but I don't think Sam would think the same way… We used to be really good friends, close enough to the point that when Bumblebee was away on assignment, I was more than happy to take up partnership with Sam. But as of the last couple of years…" the hologram's smile faded, and he looked somewhat confused. "I guess I sort of ruined it by trying to help him the Cybertronian way, which isn't always accepted amongst humans. I didn't know that at the time, of course. It was an honest mistake."

Curious about what kind of antics Sam and Bluestreak could have possibly gotten into, Mikaela chose to enquire a little further. "What did you do?"

The Autobot started fiddling with his buttons again. "I tried to help him. He takes on so many projects at once, and rarely has time for himself. He just keeps pushing and pushing himself, never taking a break. We all see it, and we do our best to help him, but there's only so much any of us can do to help someone like Sam- when he sets his mind to something, there's practically no stopping him."

Mikaela's eyes crossed. Yeah, that sounded like Sam; persistent to a default, persevering to the point you wanted to smack him.

Bluestreak carried on with his story. "Sometimes he would just grab a female, from off base of course, to have intercourse with her, and that would be considered his outlet for his stresses. It's not exactly the best outlet, but for a man who doesn't take vacations, it's all he has. Sometimes there isn't always a female available for him, though- especially during times when he's too busy to actually go looking for one."

Mikaela nodded, beginning to get a sneaking suspicion of where this story might be going.

"Ah- well, one night, you see, several of the humans decided to engage in some social consumption of alcoholic beverages, which led to Sam becoming so intoxicated that many of his normal inhibitions were down. I thought it was a nice thing to do to help him back to Bumblebee's quarters, since he sleeps there more than in his own house. It wouldn't have been a pretty scene if he ended up embarrassing himself, being such a high-ranking dignitary. Approaching Bumblebee's quarters, he then expressed the desire to have a female to mate with."

An indelicate snort rattled through Mikaela's nose, her hand coming up to smother the rude laughter that was on the tip of her tongue to spew out. "Wait- wait- don't tell me; you were more than happy to help, right?"

Bluestreak's hologram wavered momentarily, suddenly morphing into beautiful blue-haired vixen. She looked like a creature pulled straight from a magazine centerfold; full lips, flawless skin, _come hither_ eyes, and a chest that looked like it could have kept the Titanic afloat. She bobbed her eyebrows before changing back to the original male holo-matrix. "Naturally, I was more than happy to help.

"_Oh. My. God!"_ Unable to stop the laughter anymore, Mikaela let it all out. What Sam had said earlier about _deep-seated feelings of violation_- it totally made sense now! Everything made freaking sense. And she laughed. Oh god, she laughed. Every time she risked a glance in Bluestreak's direction, she ended up laughing more. The Autobot, for the most part, took it all in good humour. By the time Mikaela was able to collect herself, it felt like she'd laughed herself to the point where she was about to piss herself. "Whew, okay- I got my breath. Sorry about that- but you and Sam… that's priceless. No, that's friggin' _hilarious!" _Wiping her left eye with her knuckle, she fixed Blue with a Cheshire grin. "Was it good?"

"Was what good?"

"You and Sam going all interspecies on each other."

"Oh- um, I don't know. I haven't had any other sexual encounters to base it off of," Bluestreak shrugged sheepishly. Sam was his first and last human. After that night, he decided he'd rather stick to his own species methods of pleasure- it was far less confusing.

"What about Sam?" Mikaela pressed, eager to hear if Sam had made an utter fool out of himself. Not that he hadn't already.

The alien seemed a little more confident answering this question. "He must have had a good time, since he finished within one minute and forty-three seconds-."

Again, Mikaela burst into a new round of laughter, clutching her sides as she ached from laughing so damn hard.

"I'm glad you find this funny. Sam, understandably, did not think it was quite so funny once he was sober again. Thus the state of our friendship now."

With difficulty, Mikaela managed to swallow the last of her laughter fits. "Awww, I'm sorry things turned out like that between you two, Blue," she managed to say, patting him on the shoulder. "I guess it's kind of a human thing- we have friends with benefits, and fuck-buddies and all that, but I think we draw the line at screwing giant alien robots disguised as humans."

Bluestreak shrugged. "Had I known that at the time, I wouldn't have engaged in sexual relations with Sam. Although my kind do recognize male and female social structures, it is not so strictly observed as it is in your culture, and relations can be as casual as to be between friends, which is lucky for us, since it has only been mechs to land thus far. None of us have seen or heard from a femme of our kind in eons." He was obviously a little put out by this admission.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the human murmured.

Bluestreak offered a smile. "It is quite alright, Mikaela. I know there are still femmes out there somewhere. We simply have to be patient for the day they arrive. For now, I have learn my lesson about human encounters."

"That's the spirit- you know for next time, and that's what counts," Mikaela said. She had a feeling Sam was dead-set against there being a next time.

Blue's smile wavered, weaker than the radiant one he'd been wearing previously. "Even if there was to be a next time, I doubt I will be able to help Sam in any way. He has been deteriorating for a very long time, perhaps even as long as I have known him, and a simple sexual tryst is unlikely to help him anymore."

Mikaela's smile was instantly gone from her face. "What to do you mean by 'deteriorating'?"

Bluestreak covered his mouth, aware that he should not have said so much. He was having such a delightful time talking with Mikaela, he had completely forgotten to watch what he said to virtual strangers. "I shouldn't have said anything- that was out of line for me."

"No, please, can you tell me. I won't breathe a word to Sam, I swear," she promised. As much as she had wanted to blackmail Sam moments earlier, she also wanted to know him as well. If he was sick, or hurt, or had some disease that was causing him to deteriorate…

"I don't know the best what to say this… Sam isn't physically sick. He is exceptionally healthy for a man his age. But he is also extremely lonely. Anyone would be, living the life he does without any sort of intimate companionship." Bluestreak shrugged. "Bumblebee does his best to help support Sam- they are best friends, after all, but there is only so much a friend can do."

"He's lonely?" Without realizing she had moved her hand, it came to rest at her chest, gently grasping the material of her shirt. Somehow she'd known he was lonely. There was a certain look in his eyes that left that impression. But to have it confirmed…

"Yes, he is really quite lonely, though he would never admit it." He paused for a moment, seemingly considering something, before turning to Mikaela with a slightly hopeful expression. "It has been a very, very long time since I have seen Sam as happy as he was this morning- or even as playful as he was driving off in your truck. I'm sure we all have you to thank for that."

Taken aback by the admission, Mikaela immediate response was denial. "No, I didn't do anything… I mean, all I did was sleep with him. That's it." _'Well, we did have a nice dinner together chatting over how utterly crappy our lives have turned out to be, screwed around in an elevator, ended up rocking each other's worlds in bed, and I'm pretty sure there was a little bit of soul-touching around the third or fourth orgasm… I can't quite remember which. And breakfast was nice. Really nice. But Bluestreak doesn't need to know all that. _"All we did was have sex last night."

"Are you sure?" Bluestreak asked quizzically.

"Yes."

"Then perhaps you should have sex with Sam more often. It seems to have an extremely positive effect on him," said the alien, utterly serious.

"I… will keep that in mind, thanks."

Nodding, Bluestreak glanced to the television, blinked a few times, and the channel switched to MTV, playing some overly-sexualized music video. Mikaela couldn't decide if he did it on purpose, or just because he liked the song. Settling with the music, the alien turned to her once more. "If you really want to know what Sam has been up to these past years, read his works. Some things may have been changed, but a lot of the important elements are still there."

"His works? You mean his books?"

"Yes, his books. He carries a copy of each of them with him when he's on the road. I don't think he would mind if you read them-." He paused, looking vague for a moment. "Oh, and he just sent a text message saying that you're welcome to put anything on his tab today."

"Tell him thanks for trapping me here, I'll be sure to put his tab through the roof," she replied, already prowling towards the abandoned duffle bag on the floor. "The books are in his duffle, right?"

"Most likely." After a moment's pause, Bluestreak announced Sam's reply. "Do your worst."

"He'll regret that. I'll call long distance and chat for hours just to rack up his bill," she laughed, reminding her that she needed to call Gloria and Oscar to let them know she was still alive. Filing that away on her 'things to do' list, he overturned his duffle and shook out its contents all over the floor. Pants, pants, shocks, shirts, t-shirts, rumpled boxers, a box of condoms (which was full, she noted), and a dangerous looking gun of definite alien origin. The books fell out last, in scattered pile of cracked spines, yellowed pages, and faded words. She spared the gun a brief thought, touching her fingers to the sleek metal, before jerking away from it. Gathering the books, she hopped over to the rumpled bed and took up residence there. "You don't mind me skimming through these for a while, do you?"

"Go ahead. I'll just channel surf for now." He switched to a Spanish soap opera, a Japanese game show, and then some really bad American white-trash reality show.

Thumbing through them, Mikaela simply took in the cover art of the six paperback books, reading the backs, opening pages to random spots and reading excerpts. It was a strange sense of hesitation that grasped her, knowing that some very intimate parts of Sam lay at her fingertips, waiting in his books. Was she ready to find out what made the boy she knew become the man he was now? Could she relive some of her most terrifying moments? Or face the truth behind some of Sam's more horrifying scars? Swallowing that last ounce of hesitation, she flipped to the first page of the first novel, whose cover art boasted of a flame-painted robot striking a battle pose.

"_Prologue_

_Before time began, there was the Cube…"_

She smiled bemusedly. Interesting start; she had a feeling she knew what came next. And, indeed, the novel did end up being one giant flashback. Everything after that, though, broke her heart a little more.


	10. Chapter 10

Writing whole chapters in one day when I should be writing a final paper for Anthropology due Tuesday and studying for English exam on Wednesday...Yeah, not my brightest idea yet. ^^; But still, seeing as the last chapter was the most reviewed chapter of the story yet with a whopping 22 reviews, I couldn't NOT post this baby. I do hope, from the bottom of my heart, that you all enjoy. :)

*sigh* Okay, I had all my thanks written out for this chapter, but then I pressed the wrong button and all of it disappeared, so I'm just going to have to be short and sweet this time through. -_-

**Bluebird Soaring**- You're simply the best for your heartfelt and enthusiastic reviews, thanks you so much.

**lets go for life won't wait**- Sometimes not being able to keep secrets is a bad thing, in Blue's case, not so much. xD

**Chaos Dragon**- Emotional is what I do best. :)

**Theo3983**- The books are about to reveal much about our dear Sam~

**Elita One**- Don't think Blue has it in him to knock Mikaela out and drag her to base. Maybe if it was some other bot... xD

**spedclass**- Um... Thank you

**Obelisk of Light**- I'm pretty sure Mikaela will get more than she bargains for out of the books. ;)

**Katanagirl16**- I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter; Blue is one of the most fun characters to write.^^

**FntsyDncr3168**- There'll be more Sam/Mikaela in due time, my friend.

**Caz**- I think after so long of facing down giant evil alien robots, Sam's kind of been desensitized to the dangers of human females. He'll learn, though. ;P

**WhitlockRN**- Thanks.^^

**Bunnylass**- My dear, I had the most fan-tabulous reponse to your review written out, and there it goes right down the tubes when all my hard work decided to go poof with the press of a button. Even if this is the second go around, my love and adoration for your reviews and the enthusiasm that they bring will forever have me on cloud nine. You have such an amazing talent for devling between the lines and seeing more than what I've written. I always look forward to your reviews because your interpretations are so close to the real deal, if not spot on every time! 3

**Jean**- Uh, yeah, thanks.

**Silveriss**- Well, it's nice to know you're sticking with the story and popping up with a review. I'm honoured by the consideration.

**FireFlyFlicker**- I don't think anyone deserves heartbreak, but life happens, and so does hurt. Let's just hope Mikaela and Sam are enough to help each other.

**Lecidre**- Goodness, my dear, your review simply had me bouncing off the walls. I'm so glad I could entertain you with the last chapter- it was a fun chapter to write. Laughter is certainly a bonus! :) Bluestreak has got to be one of the most fun characters to write for this story- he's so kind, and sweet, and yet so very talkative. It's good that readers enjoy him as much as I like to write him or else this fic would be in trouble. xD

**myrthill**- My goodness, this is one of the first TF fics you've ever read? That's quite an honour to hear that, my dear. Even more so to the fact that you've enjoyed yourself. As for the hologram touching thing, think about the Doctor from Star Trek Voyager (if you've seen that show^^;)- he's made of light and force fields, and he's capable of becoming solid or intangible at will.

**Dinosaurous-rex**- That's quite a bit of praise for this one little fic, my dear. I'm humbled and honoured. Thank you so much.

**HesitantPen13**- *bows* Thank you, thank you! You're too kind~ There's no particular reason for this fic tobe set 16 years in the future other than to let time take its course in the intervening years.

**Me.....:)...** Better late than never reviews are just as good as super speedy reviews. I'm honoured that you would review my story at all. Thank you so much.

**JacktheMonkeyxo**- Thanks so much.^^

**leoshunny1985**- Thanks^^

**Serendipity Kiss  
****Chapter 10**

It was safe to say, for the first time in a _long_ time, things were looking up.

In fact, things were looking so good, that Sam was actually whistling as he trotted into the lobby of the hotel. So infectious was his good mood, Victoria couldn't help her bright smile as she watched him waltz through the entrance. Spotting his favourite receptionist, known for getting him out of several sticky morning-after situations by calling up with some fake emergency with which to whisk Sam away on, he made a detour for a desk and propped himself against the marble counter.

"How's my favourite hostess?" he charmed, rapping his knuckles against the counter.

"Doing well, Mr Witwicky," she replied, inclining her head. Her eyes sparkled as they always did when she looked him up and down, from the bounce in his step to the light in his eyes. A rare sight indeed from the normally genial but reserved Sam Witwicky. "Can I assume you had a good day?"

"You could say that," Sam laughed. Sitting at a table in a bookstore facing droves of jostling sci-fi junkies worshipping the ground he walked on as he signed their dog-eared, yellow-paged, loved-'till-the-spine-fell-out editions of his books was an interesting way to spend the day, to say the least. "But I think I had a better night, if you know what I mean."

Remembering the stunning dark-haired beauty Sam had brought in with him the night before, Victoria knew very well what he meant. "I have no doubt you had a _very_ enjoyable night. Your lady friend must have had a good time, too?"

"Of course. Would I be a gentleman if I didn't make sure she had a good time?" They both laughed, enjoying the light-hearted banter that had risen between them. On his own volition, because he was in such a good mood, Sam lifted the single small bag he was carrying to the counter, displaying it to the receptionist. "I even picked her up a few things today, hopefully to cheer her up after a stunt I pulled this morning."

Victoria's eyebrows arched in pleasant surprise. Never had any of Witwicky's lady-friends stayed in his suite longer than a night, and never had any of them left such a visible impression on the man. This woman was undoubtedly special. "Apology presents, Mr Witwicky? Why, even a man of your calibre should know flowers are the best way to go."

He reached in and withdrew one of the items from within the floridly pink-and-white striped specialty bag. "I've heard chocolate chip cookies work better," he laughed, presenting the large, melt-in-your-mouth-delicious chocolate chip cookie he'd bought at the tiny family bakery on the corner.

"Chocolate is always the best way to a woman's heart," the receptionist said warmly, reaching up to pat the hand that remained laying on the counter.

"That's what I'm hoping for," Sam replied honestly, if not a little cheekily. "Before I go up there, do you think you could do me a favour?"

"Anything, Mr Witwicky."

"Mind checking what kind of revenge has been incurred against my poor tab throughout the day?" Stuffing the cookie back into the bag, Sam nonetheless still grinned, his eyes glittering. "I fear for my bank account."

In a clatter of keyboard keys, his account was brought up and reviewed. "You're in luck; your lady friend seems to have spared you."

"Oh?"

"There was a single outgoing long-distance call made around eleven o'clock this morning, and room service had been called around 2:30 for what I can only guess would be lunch. Other than that, you're in the clear."

Delighted with the good news that Mikaela had at least spared him the horror of having to pay outstanding fees of biblical proportions, Sam grinned once more and pushed away from the counter. "Thanks so much, Vicky. You're a doll."

"That's what I'm paid for, Mr Witwicky." As he began to waltz away towards the elevators, she decided to call after him in afterthought. "Enjoy your evening!"

His rich laughter rippled through the lobby. "Don't worry, I'm sure I will."

The elevator ride up was quick, only stopping at one floor to let a tourist couple off. Once on his own floor, Sam paused at the door, unsure of what kind of sight he was going to walk in on. Perhaps Mikaela had saved the worse of her revenge for the room itself. Maybe it was completely trashed. Or, worse yet, maybe she had left sometime during the day, after the small lunch she'd ordered. Even if Bluestreak was stilling sitting in the car pool, there were a thousand different ways Mikaela could have found her way home.

Setting aside the brief flounce of trepidation, he keyed the locked and stepped in. Relieved to find the rooms clean, completely untouched except for the rumpled bed and his dumped out duffle bag scattered across the floor, he wandered in further, drawn by the soft murmur of the television. Instantly, his gaze alighted upon a familiar head of blue hair hovering just above the back of the leather couch. His expression flattened, mouth firming into a definite scowl. Bluestreak was the last person he wanted to find in his hotel room.

Aware of Sam's presence in the doorway, Bluestreak turned around with a jaunty wave.

Exempting speech all together, Sam stepped away from the open door and jerked his head out it. The silent command was easy to translate; Get Lost.

Reading it easily, driven by the firm look on Sam's face, Bluestreak rose from the couch with a sigh, blinking at the TV to turn it off, and then he was gone. Waiting for a moment to make sure the hologram was completely gone and not just hovering invisible somewhere, Sam firmly closed the door, threw the locks on it, and then wandered further into the spacious room. It was hauntingly cool throughout the space, the air conditioning gently humming through the vents, mingling sensuously with the warm swaths of light cutting across the carpet by the setting sun. There were no lights on, leaving the room in a cocooned embrace of orange light and lingering shadow. The bed, still as rumpled and inviting as it had been that morning, lay empty and waiting to be filled by naked bodies.

Only problem- where was Mikaela?

After a second of puzzling, the mystery was thankfully solved by a small noise coming from the bathroom, whose door remained cracked open a small ways. Water trickled, splashing against the sides of the deep, rounded tub. A hot curl of arousal slithered through Sam at the very thought of walking in on a slick, wet Mikaela Banes stretched out oh-so-perfectly in the marble tub with bubbles positioned in all the right places to taunt in tease. He could already imagine the invitation simmering in her eyes as she uncurled her arm and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him into the warm, watery depths with her. His imagination had been in overdrive all day thinking about what he was going to do to her, with her, the moment he got back. Having her wet, naked, and ready for him only made things better.

Growling appreciatively of the mental images he was conjuring, he hoped it would be the reality he walked into beyond the bathroom door.

* * *

Mikaela's day, as it were, had not gone as pleasantly well as Sam's had.

She'd first indulged in skimming through the first two novels of Sam's collection; the events in both were familiar, seeing as she had a part in them. It was interesting to see the artistic license he'd taken with some of the characters and events, switching things here and there, changing the dialogue a bit, tweaking a few quirks. It was a pretty accurate account overall, though- she recognized most of the events that had happened while she had stuck around with the Autobots. Other things, she was helpfully enlightened to. Right off the bat, she recognized her character as the sexy, sassy Mikhail Bones, long-term crush of the main character Dan Winchester. It was impossible not to roll her eyes at some of the names chosen for their counterparts. Some of them were so bad, so obvious, she ended up laughing. It was as if they were a private joke for anyone who knew the truth behind the books.

Nevertheless, she had to tip her hat to the honest portrayal Sam had given of everyone, especially himself- he was funny, and clumsy, and goofy, and yet still incredibly sweet.

It had struck her in an unfamiliar place in her heart to read Sam's thoughts on how much he had truly felt for her, even so many years ago, just as a couple of mixed-up teenagers. He had had a crush on her since the first time he'd laid eyes on her, just like every other prepubescent boy, but unlike many others who'd grown up and realized that she'd never look their way, he'd kept his secret crush and simply watched her from afar. The way he described he feelings for her throughout the year that "Mikhail" and "Dan" were together in the novel... She'd never imagined anyone feeling that way for anyone, let alone him, Sam, the funny, awkward 18-year-old boy. But he'd treasured her, worshipped her, and loved her like she was a goddess.

And then she broke his heart the day she walked away.

The ending of the second novel brought up old memories that still festered bitterly. Reading the novel made her remember with terrifying clarity the day of Soundwave's attack, the way Sam had come onto base battered and barely alive. Reading his interpretation of what her thoughts had been when she's first seen him hanging on to life by threads, what had gone through her mind as he underwent surgery, it was as if she were living the day again. It was if she were reliving the moments she'd walked away over. Only this time, it was worse, because she could see it from Sam's point of view, and how deeply she'd hurt him was leaving.

Scared of what she might come across in the last few pages, Mikaela had set that one down before finishing it. To sooth the scarred wounds she managed to pick open, Mikaela made good use of Sam's tab, calling the Vautzs. Oscar had provided the laughs while Gloria had given a little bit of sanity to the conversation, not that either of them had been worried for her in the least. Oscar was still puzzling over what could possibly be wrong with Bumblebee when there didn't appeare to have a single darn thing broken or out of place on him. Gloria was more to the tune of encouraging Mikaela to stay as long as she could; apparently, it was of the old woman's opinion that Mikaela needed to get out more, and if she was having such a good time with Sam, then why ruin it by coming back to a pair of old timers in the middle of the desert? They were still going to be there when she came back, so why not have a good weekend with someone else picking up the bill?

"_You're awful, Gloria," _she'd teased over the phone, Bluestreak laughing quietly in the background as he eavesdropped.

"_My dear, it's not awful to want to have a little fun. Sam seems like a nice man; live a little and have a good time." _

"_What about Oscar?" _

"_He's been running his shop for over forty years; I'm sure another day or two without you won't hurt." _

"_But-." _

"_Don't argue with me on this one, dearie. I have a feeling about this Sam boy, and I'm inclined to trust my feelings on this one; there's something special about him, if you catch my drift." _

The words still rung in her ears, even now. _"Special?"_

"_Oh yes, very special. Trust me on this one- an old woman knows." _

In the end, with her mood lightened and her heart strengthened, Mikaela had been able to return to the remaining four novels.

It was difficult reading them, more so than it had been for the first two. And yet she couldn't put them down. Even as dusk set in, and she felt inclined to take a bath, the fifth novel came with her into the tub. Bluestreak, being Bluestreak, had offered to come in with her and read from the side of the tub so as not to risk getting the book wet, but the offer was declined, leaving the alien to watch TV. Sure, he meant well by the offer, but they still only met that morning. No matter how hard it was to get through some of the chapters, she could do it on her own. She didn't need Bluestreak looming over her, having him aware of how much it hurt her.

It hurt to read about what his life had become, but at the same time she couldn't put the book down or turn her mind from anything else. Her own miseries seemed so small compared to watching friends be blown apart right before his eyes, coming out of battle with less of himself than he had going in.

And now, in the middle of the climactic battle of book five, she read a part of Sam's past that made the bottom of her heart drop out. How could anyone live through something like that and yet act so normal, _look_ so normal, afterwards? Apparently Sam had picked up some techniques in being a master of disguise- picturing his handsome face and smile in her mind's eye, she never would have guessed the truth.

Unbeknownst to her, present-day Sam was standing in the doorway watching her, about to make his presence known.

"_Honey, I'm home!" _

The shriek of surprise that wrung from her was instantly drowned by the gasp of water that filled her mouth. On reflex, she spun to face the intruder, only slip on the slick bottom of the black marble tub- Sam's book went flying in an impressive arc while she disappeared beneath the splashing surface. For a split second, Sam was availed with the odd sight of watching only a pair of arms and legs flailing above the water before Mikaela caught herself and sat up in a sputtering mess.

Bewildered, Sam stared at the wet rat that emerged from the water, heaving, glaring at him from beneath a mop of sopping dark hair.

"That wasn't funny," she growled.

"Maybe not for you," Sam laughed.

Setting down his bag, he wandered through the watery mess Mikaela had spectacularly spread across the floor to the soggy pile of papers laying dejected in a puddle. "Have fun while I was out?"

"Yeah, loads of fun- planning your demise."

"Aww, see- it's things like that that warm a guy's heart." He could feel her eyes on him, watching intensely, glaring. He couldn't help a light laugh. The moment his fingers brushed the book, though, flipping it over to reveal its identity, her glare changed, turning cold, subdued. His back to her, Sam straightened, taking his book with him. By the way the atmosphere in the room changed, he could guess what she'd read, and what thoughts were going through her mind now.

"Sam..." Sloshing water announced Mikaela's exit from the tub, the soft dripping of water off her curves following her as she came to him. He could feel her standing at his shoulder, hesitant to touch him. It was almost as if she were afraid. Whatever she had read was keeping her at bay.

"I take it you read books one through five?" he asked, tone transformed from light-hearted to edged. Almost cold.

She flinched, nodding. "Yeah."

"Find anything interesting?" His tone stung, like a slap. It made her feel as if she'd done something wrong by reading his books. He never once said NOT to read them.

"Those things you wrote- did they all really happen?" Her heart was beating a hard tempo against the inside of her ribs; she was scared of something. His answer, maybe? Or could it be she was scared for him, of what he'd been through?

"I changed some of the details, but yeah, for the most part, it all happened. All of it."

Biting her lip, Mikaela resisted the instant recoil that churned in the pit of her stomach. Even if he wasn't facing her, she could see the storm mulling in his eyes; his outline screamed tension in the hunch of his shoulders, the rigidness of his spine. She may have been the naked one in the room, but Sam was the most exposed.

"You have got to be one of the bravest men I have ever met."

He jumped when he felt her hands on him. Her fingertips graced the long, corded muscles of his back, moving up, to the sides, her palms smoothing around his sides until her arms were wrapped around his torso. A warm, wet body fit itself to his back, soaking his clothes, pressing soft curves to his painfully rigid body. He closed his eyes, bowing his head. Of course she would be the one to hug him. She'd run away before, when they were kids, but she stayed now, as an adult, hugging him. He took one of her hands in his, bringing her palm up to press it to his lips.

"I'm either brave, or incredibly stupid."

Mikaela smirked. "You're a little bit of both."

She didn't back away when he shifted to turn around. She kept him in the circle of her arms, metaphorically supporting his weight. If he attempted to rest his real weight on her, they both knew they'd end up on the floor faster than you could say "transform and roll out." Metaphorical support was just as good. A huge weight shifted from his shoulders as he looked down, fondly taking in the woman tucked determinedly against him. Even if she didn't say it with words, she was there for him for as long as she was going to be in his life, even if it was only going to be for the next day or two.

And suddenly her fingers were at the buttons of his shirt, plucking them one by one. She wanted to see him with the new knowledge she had of him. She now had the stories of what helped shape him, his mind and his body, and now she wanted to see the result again, in a new light. He helped her, not bothering to question the intent in her eyes. She didn't flinch when the coin-sized scar above his heart was revealed- she knew how it came to be, but did not shy away from it. The claws marks along his abdomen came to light, treated with only a light touch, a glimpse. It was the thin line that traced his right shoulder that drew her attention, drawing her fingers to trace the scalpel-thin scar with rapt attention. "It must have hurt so much."

"It did. More than you'll ever know." Capturing her curious touch, Sam offered her a bare smile and stepped back, guiding her back to the steaming water when he watched a shiver pass through her luscious body. As she settled back, watching him carefully, he disrobed of the rest of his clothes, easing into the water next to her. He wrapped his left arm around her body and brought her close, easing her over his lap to straddle him, holding her there with no resistance on her part.

"I guess if I'm going to come clean, this is the best place to do it," he said, the barest trace of humour gracing his hucky voice.

"You never give the jokes a rest, do you?" she sighed, shaking her head.

"Would I be me if I did?"

"No, 'course not." She settled comfortably across his lap, the sensitive inner-skin of her thighs rubbing warmly against the steely cords of muscle in his legs. She brushed the scar near his heart, knowing its origin: ten years ago, in an encounter in the Sahara Desert with the dangerous and elusive Scorponok. "I can't believe everything you've been through, though."

"You better believe it- I have the scars to prove it," he replied ruefully.

"You certainly do. More than your fair share."

He sucked in a breath as Mikaela traced the remnants of Ravage's mauling, the most violently visible of all his scars. Ugly, horrible, jagged reminders of why he fought. Her gaze never left his as her touch followed the tense flesh downward, below the water, caressing his hipbone. There was a moment when he thought she was going to take him in hand, caress him there, but this was not a moment for sex. Sadly, no- there would be time for that later. Yes, they were naked, and both of them were brutally attracted to the other's naked body, but this was not a time to act on lust. They were being nakedly honest with each other, metaphorically and literally.

Mikaela let her fingers linger on his hipbone, feeling him move beneath her, the ripple of his body as he acknowledged her touch. "You've been through so much..."

"It's been my choice this whole time. I don't regret it." He didn't. Never would. The things he managed to do with his life, everything he'd seen, everything he'd done; there was nothing to regret. He was as much a warrior as any Autobot.

Her honeyed eyes met his for a few seconds, and then dropped to his shoulder. "Not even this?" She reached out to touch the pale line that divided his arm and shoulder from the rest of his body, but she paused before making contact. The look in her eyes was unreadable; she wasn't scared to touch him, nor did she pity the truth. She realized she _hurt_ for him. It hurt her to imagine what unbelievable pain he must have gone through sustaining such a wound; it was fresh in her mind, horrifically clear with the literary details she'd just absorbed.

He stared at his shoulder, moving his right arm up to examine it, dripping wet, flexing the fingers, tensing the muscle. "You read that part, did you?"

"Just finished before you walked in." She watched the limb in utter fascination, tracking it as it moved.

"I see..." He nodded, setting his arm back in the water. "I toned down the details for the story. I didn't think my readers could handle what really happened."

Carefully, Mikaela cupped his face, tilting his rough jaw up so his eyes would meet hers. Even with everything she was learning about him, he was still Sam Witwicky. Sure, this was version 2.0, with a whole new body, new baggage, and definite sexual perks, he still the same man she loved once upon a time. He was still as handsome as ever. That was probably never going to change in her eyes. No matter what truth she found out about him, no matter how badly she wanted to run from whatever horrible thing she'd learned, he was always going to be that kind of handsome that made her heart skip a beat.

"You want to tell me the real story?" When his face clouded, she leaned in, making sure his gaze was trapped in hers. "I can handle it, okay?"

Yes, she was scared. She didn't know if she wanted to know the whole truth. But it was there, in his eyes, he wanted to tell someone. He needed to.

He nodded, the arm encircling her naked back tightening a fraction. "It was five years ago, just outside Las Vegas... I was part of a team tracking down Soundwave in order to apprehend him. He surprised us with reinforcements, and it got ugly pretty fast. I had a clear shot at him- right in the spark. I was so focused on taking aim that I didn't know a drone was coming at me from behind. Bumblebee was yelling for me, but I couldn't hear him." His gaze grew distant as the memory flashed full force across his mind's eye. "There was no way any of the Autobots could get to me in time, so Bumblebee did the one thing he could think of to get me out of the way... he-," his voice wavered, almost cracking. "He shot me."

Knowing the story hadn't been enough to prepare her for the agonized look that clouded Sam's face. It struck Mikaela like a physical blow.

"It was the only thing he could do to get me out of the way in time. It was either that, or die." He paused, drawing strength from Mikaela's presence. "Even though he put his cannon on its lowest setting, the moment the blast hit me, it threw me over over a hundred yards away. My arm and three of my ribs were instantly incinerated."

"Oh my god."

He looked away, head bowed. "I don't remember anything after that. They told me I was conscious the entire time, but I don't remember any of it. All I know is I came to a week later, and I found _this_ attached to me-," he raised his arm once more, displaying it in light of its true nature. It looked as real as any arm, but it _wasn't_.

"How-?"

He smirked bitterly, jaded eyes glaring at his supposedly new-and-improved limb. "You know how I told you yesterday that Perceptor made up for the whole growth hormone thing? Well, this is one of the ways he made up for it."

With trembling hands, Mikaela took his right arm and drew it between them. It looked just like a real arm. Tracing veins, following muscles, mussing the light dusting of hair, there was absolutely no difference between this fake limb and his real one. "You can't even tell the difference."

Sam scowled, not at her but at the situation. "Believe me, there's a difference." It may have been strong, more durable, and able to withstand damages than his old arm, but nothing was ever going to replace the feeling of a real arm. It was never going to be as good as the original.

She continued to examine the details of his arm, amazed by how lifelike even the pulse was. "It doesn't hurt you, does it?"

"No, but I know it's there, and I know it's not _my_ arm."

Mikaela bit her lip, careful to pose the next question. "You can't...take it off, can you?"

He gave a dry chuckle- not cruel, but not kind either. "No, the neural circuitry is threaded into my nervous system. If this arm comes off, it'll feel just like it did losing the first one."

"But you still fight?"

"Of course I do. Like I said, this has always been my choice, and I don't regret what's happened. I'll fight for as long as I have to in order make sure everyone I love and care for is safe."

The way he said it, the look in his eyes while he said it, Mikaela knew he meant it from the bottom of his heart. Fighting to keep Earth safe, to keep the ones he loved safe, was a fact of life, _his_ life.

Nodding to the conviction ringing true in his words, Mikaela drew up on her knees, sliding her arms around Sam's neck in order to draw him near. She fit their bodies together in a way that involved her arms clasping behind his head, her legs bent around his hard flanks, and her curves moulded to his hard plains in a full-body embrace that was more than just physical- she wanted to hug him in a way that would let him know she acknowledged the sacrifices he had to make- she may not have understood everything he did, but at least she wasn't going to sweep is all under the carpet. His arms moved to encircle her tighter, pressing their bodies even closer; he used both his left and right arms to hold her, which felt strangely symbolic. His embrace was protective, drawing her near, pressing her close, and it was possessive, claiming her was his personal goddess, his earth-bound angel. The look in his dark, liquid eyes was still jaded from stirring memories, but there was no mistaking the depth of adoration he looked to her with. She didn't run. She didn't recoil. She simply accepted it all as different parts of him.

Even if the water around them had cooled considerably, they were both warm and alive and welcoming as they pressed together. Letting her lips brush along his jaw, she came to rest at the shell of his ear, laying a gentle ghost-kiss just before it, listening to Sam's sigh of release as he let the tension of the past fade. Her humming laugh tickled them both.

"You really are some kind of special, aren't you?"


	11. Chapter 11

I had so much fun writing this chapter it should have been illegal! xD

**Spedclass**- Thanks.^^

**Dinosaurous-rex**- Thank you so much! :)

**Obelisk of Light**- Thanks~ Sam's been through his fair share of hurts, but he's strong enough to pull through.

**Leoshunny1985**- Thanks.^^

**Chaos Dragon**- Awww, thanks~ Sadly, yes, papers do come first. -_-

**Katanagirl16**- Sam's a trooper, alright~ Thanks!

**Theshadowcat**- Glad you're all caught up! Thanks so much for the review. :)

**LupisNoctis**- You're too kind~ Thank you so much.

**Theo3983**- Thank you very much, I'm glad you enjoy my fic so much. Good luck in Afghanistan!

**Puppyluverv15**- Here's the next chapter!

**Akina**- I'm honoured that this is the first TF fic you've ever read. I hope you enjoy yourself in the fandom.^^

**Moonpiper**- Thanks so much~ Last chapter was a real emotional one for me to write, but Sam's past (as I've created it) was a story that had to be told. I'm glad that you liked it, despite its sadder content.

**Bluebird Soaring**- lol~ Don't we all wish men came with written manuals of some sort? That would make every woman's life a hell of a lot easier. xD There was a whole lot of a pain in the chapter, yeah, but there was also a little bit of healing~ Mikaela and Sam are good for one another like that.^^

**Me.....:)...-** Thanks~ It was a sad chapter, but everyone made it through in one piece. Bumblebee and Sam are tighter than ever, best friends to the end, and Mikaela handled the horror of reading Sam's novels like a pro. They're a strong bunch~

**Thomthom830**- I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter~ Thank you so much for reviewing.

**Silveriss**- Yeah, when you're weighing your options- your arm or your life- people tend to choose life. ^^;

**Lecidre**- Awwww, hun, I'm so happy that you enjoyed the humour in the chapter so much! Bluestreak is such an awesome character to write for, and him offering to go into the shower with Mikaela was a lot of fun to write! But the telling of Sam's past and the emotional infusion that I tried to bring into it was the biggest focus of the chapter- it's great that you picked up on the subtle romance of it, even though they didn't engage in sex right away~ Hugs and cheers to you! :)

**RAVen05**- I'm flattered to hear that you're enjoying the reading experience to far, and sincerely humbled that you think this reads like a professional piece. That's what I was aiming for! One of these days, I'll be published! xD

**Bunnylass**- Have I ever mentioned how much of an angel you are, my dear? 'Cause if I haven't, allow me to say it again- YOU. ARE. AN. ANGEL~! This chapter (and entire fic) is totally dedicated to you and your amazing reviews! Sometimes I am so blown away by the depth and detail of your thoughts on the chapter that I'm left speechless (and grinning like a loon) for hours afterwards. You have such a gift for delving into the story that's between the lines, and the emotional enthusiasm that you invest in my humble fics is mind-blowing. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for clicking into this story and sticking with it! You're too wonderful~!

**You. Broke. A. Promise.**- Thanks! :)

**FntsyDncr3168**- Thank you very much~^^

**Alex**- Thanks!^^

**LeeMeru**- Replacing Sam's arm wasn't so much superficial as it was functional- if anyone were to lose an arm, especially someone smack dab in the middle of war, wouldn't they want both arms to work with? The beauty of sci-fi is they get to have their arm back! Real Life... we're still working on it. ^^;

**Onhiro**- Thank you so much! You're enthusiasm means a lot~ The fic is based off of the movie, but, like with all of my fics, I tend to throw in a little G1 magic to spice things up.^^

**Much cosmic love to you all!**

**Serendipity Kiss  
****Chapter 11**

"Some kind of special, huh?"

The gentle kiss she had bestowed him with was enough to ignite a new heat in him, one that was becoming entirely too familiar whenever he set sights on her. He shifted his head enough to kiss her throat, nibbling the thin skin there until he felt her fingers flex along his shoulders, her thighs moving anxiously against his legs. She felt the heat smouldering.

"Yeah, _special._"

Wanting to taste the magic of the word from her lips, Sam leaned up to lay his mouth to hers, tasting more than just magic. She tasted of perfection and burgeoning desire. When her mouth curled into a smile, welcoming his kiss and gently returning the gesture, she became something more. God, she tasted like the woman he loved.

As her tongue busied itself playing games with Sam's, her hands moved on their own accord, first over his broad shoulders, and then down the plains of his back. Her fingertips traced the cords of muscle with blind accuracy, as expert at touching him as she was at kissing. His body was much like everything else about him now- a fascination to her, especially now, knowing everything she did. There wasn't another human alive who could possibly match up to him in bravery or heart, not to her, anyways. When she had called him special, she'd _meant_ it, not just for all the terrible things he'd been put through in war, but for the fact that he was still there, still fighting, and still had his heart intact, scarred as it was. He wasn't the same Sam of sixteen years ago; she'd gotten over that fact. He was a new Sam with homage to the old- still so new to her that he had the new car smell. But the longer she found herself stuck with him, the more she felt old feelings coming back. She felt like she was... like she was... loved? Was that the right word for it?

Had it really been so long since she'd felt so loved? God, how sad was that?

Sam felt her pause, her lips stilled over his. He pried his eyes open in time to catch the small could that crossed Mikaela's face. "Hey, what's the matter? If it's the arm thing, don't worry about it. It really doesn't hurt me, I promise."

She shook her head, pushing such silly thoughts from her head as she did do. She couldn't afford to fall back in love with someone like Sam. The risk of the war... She wasn't strong enough to handle something like that. "It's not the arm. The water's just getting cold, that's all."

Yes, the water was cool, but the lie left her eyes colder.

To distract him from whatever he could see in her eyes, Mikaela dragged his mouth back to hers. One hand drew up into his hair, burrowing into the short curls to bring him closer to her as she arched above him. It was a distraction at its finest, even if it dragged her to distraction as well. Settling on her knees, her thighs grazing heatedly against Sam's sides, she let her body fit itself to his. The apex of her thighs came to graze along the hard plains of his stomach, the soft flesh of her belly gliding along his front. She shuddered as sensitized skin burned to life.

A strong arm curled under her bottom and lifted her clear from the water as if she were weightless. The surprise move caught her off guard, forcing her to capture Sam's shoulders in order to not flail backwards into the water.

"What are you doing?" she asked, breathless and laughing a little.

"You said the water was cold, so I'm getting you out of the water," Sam reasoned, giving her a look that clearly said she should have known thay. He balanced her weight on his right arm easily, which kind of felt like he was showing off the strength of his replacement arm; even if she wouldn't admit it, she was impressed. Elevated as she was, her breast just happened to be at the right height to nip at, which Sam did playfully. His nibbling caused a little more laughter broken up up Mikaela trying to bat him away. It took a little effort to stand from the tub, not because the woman on his arm was heavy, but because a certain part of his own anatomy was making its demands very hard to ignore.

The slight jostling forced Mikaela to get a better grip, her hands moving from his shoulders to his head, which was fine by Sam. While he may have been blinded by the most amazing pair of breasts to ever grace his line of sight, it was a good kind of blinded. A very, very good kind of blinded. He lightly kissed a hickey left from the night before, revelling in the soft noise he was rewarded with. Wanting to hear more, he drew her furled nipple into his mouth to roll against his tongue. She squirmed against him, gasping, groaning, torn between dragging his mouth closer for more pleasure and tearing him away before she toppled backwards off his arm.

"Sam- ah!" She bit the inside of her cheek as his free arm came around to trace up the soft curve of her belly, tickling her ribs. "Sam, you gotta put me down somewhere. You're going to drop me."

"I'd never drop you," he murmured, his voice entirely adoring. "Trust me."

"Fine- oh!" Her toes curled involuntarily as he nipped at her again. Her fingers curled tightly in his hair, pulling to the point of pain, though Sam made no noise. Even with the cool air of the room gracing her, she was hot enough under her skin to not notice. The more Sam continued his ministrations, the less she was noticing around her, including where they were going. Her eyes fluttered for only a moment when she was jostled once more, suddenly noticing that the bed was a lot closer than it had been a few seconds ago.

"Not the bed! Not the bed!" she cried, suddenly trying to scramble over Sam's body. He was too slick with water to get a good grip. "We're wet! We'll soak it!"

"So?" Sam growled playfully, dropping her to the mussed sheets. "Better than cold bath water."

She groaned, trying to crawl out of her body-shaped wet mark. "We're too wet, Sam! Now we won't be able to sleep in it tonight."

"Who says we'll be sleeping tonight?" He crawled after her, grazing his hand along her inner thigh until his fingers graced her core, stroking the heat there. "Besides, I like you wet."

Whether it was his words or touch, she groaned, feeling arousal shoot through her like fire. Escape, she quickly decided, was futile. It was better to just stay and enjoy. "You have such a way with words."

He chuckled, liquid eyes tracing her hungrily. "I try."

His fingers continued to stroke her silken heat, stoking the fires higher. Her head fell back, mouth parted just enough to release a pleading moan as Sam teased and touched. She sensed him drawing nearer more than she saw him, feeling heat radiate off his skin as he crawled closer. Her arms automatically curled around his neck at the same time as he wrapped his own arm around her. His straining erection prodded her lower belly, garnering a restrained hiss from him when she ground her body to the throbbing staff.

"You're so hard," she murmured, groping to touch his erection, stroke him like he did her.

"I've been waiting all day for this," he growled, thrusting into her hand as she fondled him.

"I can tell." She gave him a loving squeeze, one that made his eyes cross and toes curl.

"Sweet talker," he groaned, lowering his mouth to the exposed flesh of her throat to taste her pulse. It was so hard to keep himself restrained when he felt his sense were filled by her. He wanted nothing more than to drag her close, sink into her hot, wanton body, and make her his over and over again. Her fingers were like five slender geniuses wrapped around him, making stars burst before his eyes, making him want her more than he had ever wanted a woman in his life.

Her body arched up, breasts to his chest, their flesh deliciously hot and slick against each other. "I'm more than just sweet talk." Following her words, her tongue graced the base of his throat, tracing a hot wet line to his jaw, leaving a stinging nip at the end to be soothed by a kiss.

The assault on his senses left Sam growling. "I think I've had enough talking for today." Pressing one long finger into her, a tantalizingly wet gasp filled his ears. Her hips moved against the intrusion, trying to draw him in farther. She released her teasing hold on his dick to grasp the damp sheets at her sides as he let another finger join the first, pumping slowly. He'd been waiting to do this with her all day. He had had her face in his mind all day- smiling, panting, biting her lip as he pumped into her, screaming when she came...

And suddenly he was aware of being rolled over, long legs folding against his flanks and trapping him to the mattress. Her face was flushed at she stared down at him, mouth parted ever so slightly as she grinned. Arousal darkened her eyes, passion making her gaze come alive. If she wanted to be on top, she was welcome to it. Hell, he got the best view of her breasts from where he was. And that look on her face, slightly wild, dangerously aroused- God, it was a look that would have made a lesser man spontaneously come.

Testing the water a little, she glided her wet thatch of curls against his straining staff. She laughed when she felt his body tense, muscles quivering. He wanted her. Badly. He thrust against her pleadingly.

The feeling was so _powerful._

She felt powerful looming over him, watching his head toss back as she took him in hand. She watched as his eyes disappeared, rolled back into his skull, as she worked him with expert ease. It was a whole other kind of arousal to feel as she straddled his legs, memorizing the lines of his long body while he moved in concert to her what she did to him with her hands. He had fought Decepticons several times his size, had his own arm incinerated by his best friend, and yet she had him at her mercy with a single touch. The silken skin of his thick erection pulsed hotly against her palm, his hips rising to meet her hand as she moved. Last night had been for her, but tonight was going to be for him- it was the least she could do after all the times he'd fought to save the planet.

It took a great effort for Sam to tip his head up, watching as Mikaela enjoyed herself a little too much. The glint in her eyes as she met his hooded gaze was sweet torture, her honeyed eyes burning with a passionate fire. It was the best look a woman could have ever given him after knowing everything that had happened to him; it meant she didn't pity him. She still _wanted_ him.

"God, Mickey, you feel so good."

"It'll feel better once you're inside me," she purred, shifting to her knees.

The words practically rang in his ears. Inside her. God, _inside her_. He was ready to explode from the mere thought alone. Hot. Wet. Ringing. ...Wait, ringing? Where was that ringing coming from? It took a moment to recognize the _Flight of the Bumblebee_ ringtone. No, no, no, no-! Not now! Not him!

Mikaela sat up straighter, canting her head as she listened. "Is that your phone?"

"Yes!" Sam was scrambling beneath her, trying his damndest to get out from his entirely too-enjoyable spot between Mikaela's legs to answer his fucking phone. "I have to answer it before he-!"

Too late.

With one last note from _Flight of the Bumblebee_, the small cell suddenly issued an angry series of tones. It sounded almost like the alien melodies that accompanied a Cybertronian transformation, but at a much smaller scale. A much smaller, angrier scale. A light flickered from Sam's discarded pants pocket, announcing the new hologram that was sudeenly projected into the room from the compact emitter Perceptor had built into the phone.

Mikaela gave a surprised shriek, yanking up a corner of bedsheet for some moderate cover.

Sam was not so much surprised as he was pissed with the sudden appearance of his best friend's hologram. He was _so close_ to sinking into Mikaela. So close he was practically seeing stars! And then _He_ just had to call. He didn't bother to cover up when he stood from the bed. It wasn't like the alien hadn't seen it before. Arms crossed, his greeting was as sharp as his scowl.

"Bumblebee."

"Sam."

Bumblebee's hologram was exactly as anyone would have imagined it; blond-haired, blue-eyed, and possibly the most adorable looking man on the face of the planet- not too tall, not too short, angelic face. The kind of pretty-boy male that young teenaged girls squealed over. He was also rather mad looking.

"Samuel Witwicky, you are a cruel, _cruel _human."

The words were sharp, dark. If Bumblebee took any notice of Sam's aroused nakedness, or even Mikaela's, he gave no sign of it. The scout was _mad._

Sam's expression morphed as he realized what the hologram could have been alluding to. "Will picked you up today, didn't he?"

"_Yes." _

"He rode the brakes, didn't he?"

"All the way to base."

"Really?"

Holographic blue eyes narrowed stubbornly. "Yes."

"Good." Sam looked rather smug, even more so knowing that Bumblebee couldn't even come after him like he knew the alien wanted to. The hologram was just a simple light-and-field one with only a five-foot range from the cell phone projector. "That's what you get for manipulating me."

"I did not manipulate you," Bumblebee growled.

A sharp laugh rang from Sam. "Oh, that's right, you _broke down_. How could I forget? Amazingly convenient that Mikaela's shop just happened to be nearby, huh? Such convenient coincidences."

Bumblebee's mouth pursed, eyes once again narrowing to flashing slits. "What I did, I meant with the best of intentions." He glanced to Mikaela for a split second. "I had the best in mind for _both_ of you."

Sam flapped a dismissive hand. "We're not teenagers anymore, Bee. You can't just break down in the middle of nowhere and hope for the best."

"It worked that first time in Tranquility," Bumblebee offered ruefully, which served to bring a splash of colour to both humans' faces as they remembered that fateful day by the lookout.

"That was a long time ago," Sam countered.

"And yet it seemed to work this time, as well. Sam, you can't deny that you needed something like this to happen or you would have run yourself into the ground. And Mikaela-," he turned to her, eyes bright, "I may not know everything about how your life has been for the last few years, but from what I've seen, you needed Sam just as badly as he needed you. You've missed each other for sixteen years and never once were either of you willing to admit it."

Those words struck them. They had missed each other terribly, even if they had never admitted it to themselves. The depth at which they had missed the other was becoming more and more blatantly obvious the longer they stayed in each others company. Of course it was going to be Bumblebee to see that side of them. The Autobot had a gift for that sort of thing.

Scrambling for something to say, Sam spat the first thing that came to mind. "Well, I think we're doing a pretty good job of catching up now." He gestured pointedly to the bed and the naked woman in it. "If you would be so kind as to _leave_, we could get right back to what we were in the middle of."

Bumblebee opened his mouth to say something, took a good look at Sam and Mikaela's states of undress, and seemed to reconsider whatever he had to say. The hologram flickered briefly as a smile crept across its face. "I see... Well, mission accomplished, yes?"

"'Mission accomplished'? That's all you have to say for yourself, you manipulator?" Sam growled incredulously.

"Have fun?" The alien looked a heck of a lot more happier now that he knew his plan had worked.

"If you ever try and pull something like this again, I will kill you," Sam threatened flatly. He didn't mean it, of course, but he felt better threatening the scout anyways.

"We'll see about that," Bumblebee chirped. He turned a suddenly bright smile on Mikaela. "It was nice seeing you again, Mikaela."

Mikaela self-consciously tugged her corner of bedsheet closer to herself. "Nice seeing you too, Bumblebee," she replied awkwardly.

"Bye, Sam!"

"I'm turning off my phone so you can't call again."

Bumblebee laughed, gracing the humans with a sparkling smile. "Then you'll just have to tell me all about your adventures when you get back to base."

With that, the hologram was gone. Sam dove for bathroom, grabbed his pants and yanked his phone out. With a click of a button, it was shut off. Once sure that the Autobot had no chance of interrupting him anymore, he glanced back to Mikaela, who remained where she sat. Poor girl looked a little stunned, which was a given until she got used to holograms appearing out of nowhere. It was worse when they used his phone's projector, since they had a nasty habit of popping up at the wrong time, and it drained his battery something wicked. Stowing the cell away, he looked down at himself, sighed, and then looked back at her.

"You still feel like having sex?" he asked.

"Umm..." she bit her lip, shrugging. "Not really, no."

He sighed again. "Yeah, me neither." He balled his pants up in one hand and gathered his forgotten bag of purchases in the other, wandering back to the damp bed to sit on the mattress ledge. "Sorry about that... Bee kinda ruined the moment, didn't he?"

Dropping the sheet, Mikaela crawled over to his side, leaning against his arm. "It's fine. You had no way of knowing he was going to call."

"No, I didn't, but he sure did put a damper on things." He was as flaccid as a wet noodle, and until he got the image of Bumblebee showing up out of nowhere out of his head, he wasn't going to get it up any time soon. Ever since that Bluestreak incident, he never took chances with holograms...

An understanding hand patted his thigh. "There's always later tonight, right?" Mikaela offered, quirking a half-smile.

"Yeah, tonight." But he wanted sex _now_.

"Guess we should get dressed, huh?" she slid from the mattress gracefully, stretched in a way that just about jumped Sam's libido back to full alert, and then wandered into the bathroom to collect her discarded clothes, towelling off excess water while she was in there. She came back still naked, shaking her head at the shirt and shorts in her arms. "You know, it's the strangest thing... I've been here all day, and yet I can't seem to find where my panties went. I even had Bluestreak help me look for a bit, but we couldn't find them."

Sam perked up, digging into his pink-and-white tote bag. "I might have something to help... Here, try these on." He tossed her a small package wrapped in designer tissue.

Catching it in both hands, her curiosity drove her to pick off the pink paper to reveal a pair of neatly folded panties. They were a handsome shade of wine red, bikini cut, with a delicate black lace bow on the front. She gave Sam a flat look. "A bow? Seriously?"

"Oh, come on, I thought the bow was cute on the other pair. Just try those ones on, will you?"

His request was flapped away with a flick of her hand. "First I want to know where you got them and why."

Sam quirked a smile, warding off Mikaela's pointed stare with his raised hands. "Hey now, I didn't get them at any crazy sex store or anything- I was tempted, believe me, but I didn't. Just your regular lingerie place."

Her lips pursed stubbornly, hardly soothed by the answer. _"Why?"_

She was replied with an unconcerned shrug. "Because I thought it was a nice thing to do. You can't honestly tell me you were looking forward to wearing the same pair for three days straight, can you?"

She made a face. "No, guess not."

Sam smiled, nodding. "See? I really am I good guy at heart. Now try them on, and try to be sexy about it. I didn't get sex, so this is the next best thing."

"You're a dork." With the utmost scepticism, she dropped her shirt and shorts to slip on the panties, not trying to act sexy about it but getting an appriciative groan from a deprived Sam anyways. It came as a pleasant surprise when they fit perfectly. "How'd you know what size to get?"

His expression turned to one of utter mischief. "I might have had some help." He dug into his pants' back pocket and pulled out a familiar bundle of crumpled white cloth.

Mikaela blinked. "Are those my-?"

"Maybe."

Her jaw dropped. "You jerk!" She leapt the small distance between them to rain down womanly fury on her would-be thief, only to be intercepted and flipped onto her back, pinned by a bigger body. She glared up at him mulishly. "You had them in your pocket all day!"

"Yep."

"That is so gross."

Sam ducked down to kiss her nose, and then flew away to avoid a punch in the nose. "They were a great souvenir," he laughed.

"I could have gone home without them!"

"And I would have had a little something to remember you by."

She stuck her tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. He unpinned her in order to shield himself from the spit attack. As soon as she was released, she snatched her errant panties away from him. "You are a pig, Sam."

"I know you mean that in the nicest way possible," he teased incorrigibly.

A roll of her eyes was his only answer as she fretted about trying to figure out where to dump her original pair of panties. She hissed at him while doing so. "What if they'd fallen out while you were out in public, huh? What would you have done?"

He watched her for a bit, grinning as the Cheshire Cat as he admired the sexy shade of red of her new panties against Mikaela's soft honey-tanned skin. Until, of course, she noticed his staring and waved sharply to bring his attention upwards.

"_Hello?_ Are you even listening to me?"

"Not really."

"I asked what you would have done if they'd fallen out!"

He shrugged. "I would have said they were mine."

She sent him a flat look. "You would not."

"Would too." He lurched up from the bed, trotting over to his duffle. Sorting through the rumpled contents, he selected a long t-shirt for Mikaela, tossed it at her, and then gestured for the panties to be sent his way. She glared even while shrugging on the shirt. "Come on, Mickey, just toss 'em here. I promise I won't steal them again."

Instead of tossing them, Mikaela wadded up the bundle and whipped it at him, which he caught easily. "You know, you're a klepto. My panties, my truck, what next?"

"_Your heart,"_ he murmured under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing- I said your wallet," Sam said quickly, continuing to dig through his duffle.

Her hand automatically went to her shorts pocket to make sure her old leather wallet was still there. It was. Her mouth curled into a smirk. "You wouldn't need my wallet anyways, you're rich, aren't you?"

"Sure, ridiculous government paychecks and all that, but it never takes away from the thrill of the hunt." He stepped into a pair of worn sweatpants, knotting the drawstring. "Look, getting away from my kleptomania, you wanna watch some TV or something?"

Weighing her options, it was decided that TV sounded like the best thing to do at the moment. "Sure, I guess." She trotted over to the couch and flicked the large screen on, absently listening as Sam rooted around for something more. While he was distracted, she bent her nose to the soft grey shirt and breathed in Sam's scent. It was the kind of smell that made a woman want to purr. Rubbing her cheek to the worn material of the sleeve, a new obstruction came into her line of sight. "...a cookie?"

"Chocolate chip." Sam hopped over the back of the couch happily, handing her the prize. "I said I would get you one, didn't I?"

"I didn't think you were serious." When she glanced up to meet Sam's gaze, it made her giggle. He looked so happy to be giving her a cookie. Sure, it was a little stupid, and maybe a tiny bit juvenile, but it was a gift, and he was proud of it. She loved it. "Thanks." Cookie in hand, she leaned over to place a thank you kiss on his cheek. Before she could slide away, Sam reached up to drag her body into his lap, settling her until they were both comfortable.

"You can thank me by sitting here tonight," he said, letting his arms come to rest around her waist.

"Why? There's a whole couch to sit on."

"Because I want you to. We used to watch TV like this, remember?" he murmured, laying his chin to her shoulder. They used to watch TV snuggled up on the couch at his place sometimes, usually when Ron and Judy weren't around to high-five each other. Only now, it felt even better with her in his lap. And apparently she felt so as well by the way she allowed herself to relax fully against, resting her back to his chest, her head to his shoulder.

"I remember," she breathed absently. "It was nice back then."

A light chuckle tickled her ear. "Right now isn't half bad either."

Their evening whittled away in relative silence until the last rays of the sun sunk below the cityscape horizon. The cookie was quickly nibbled away at, one bite for Mikaela before she offered it over her shoulder for Sam, repeating until Sam insisted on licking the crumbs from her fingers. When darkness set in, they switched the channel to a movie that both of them had been meaning to see but missed it in theatres. Of course, no movie was complete without making out, which Sam was quick to point out and enforce. Mikaela's lips were enough to quickly erode away that libido problem Bumblebee had ushered in with his presence.

Sadly, the phone rang. The hotel's phone.

"Dammit. I'll get it," he sighed, jostling Mikaela to the next cushion. By her expression in the glow of the TV, she was clearly as resentful of telephones at the moment as he was. In three long strides, Sam was to the phone, yanking it to his ear. "Hello? Whoever is calling better have a good reason."

"_...Sam?" _

He sagged. "Hello, Bluestreak."

The Autobot gave a series of hopeful chirps. "_Can I come back up now? I'm bored out here, and lonely." _

Movement out of the corner of his eye drew Sam's attention back to the couch. Mikaela was wriggling around, disappeared for a second, and then came back up peering over the back of the couch at him. He could barely see her expression in the dark, but he could sense mischief in her gaze. When he cocked an eyebrow at her, something was tossed at him. Automatically reaching out to catch it, he found himself the holder of a pair of red panties. A soft laugh had him looking up, watching as Mikaela beckoned to him before disappearing once more behind the back of the couch.

_Dear God. _The sweatpants he was wearing were suddenly several times too small.

"_Sam? Are you still there? Hello? Can I come back up yet?" _

"No." The phone was practically smashed back into its cradle as Sam raced for the couch.


	12. Chapter 12

_Amomaxia- _the term for having sex in a parked car. Has very little to do with the chapter, but I thought it was neat fact. Sex in a moving car, while unnamed, is obviously more dangerous. Possible, but still dangerous. You can try it at home, but make sure whoever is at the wheel knows what they're doing... *double entendre!*

Okay, enough of that! *ahem* Been a while since I've posted for this story. Sorry about the wait- it happens when you never know quite what to write and life gets in the way. Thankfully, I just happened to purchase some novels by Shelly Laurenston that gave me some mighty fine inspiration. With my mojo back in place, I whipped this puppy out in a few days flat. Even deleted the half chapter I had written before to make this. *shrug* Whatever cosmic force is smiling down on me, I'm grateful.

...And now on to thank you corner!

**LupisNoctis**- Bumblebee sure does know how to say the right things, eh? He was a great part to write into the chapter. And I couldn't just leave out the cookie Sam got Mikaela! Everyone loves cookies!

**Theshadowcat**- lol~ Bluestreak will be cooling his wheel until dawn! Maybe even longer if Sam has anything to say about it! XD

**Onhiro**- I think anyone would have thrown Blue and Bee out of there if they were in the middle of getting busy. Mikaela really was hot in the movie, and she'd only get more attractive as she aged. Sam, too, for that matter. They're both damn lucky!

**Elita One**- lol~ Of course Bumblebee had to ruin it! He's Bumblebee after all! XD

**FntsyDncr3168**- So true! If any woman had a chance with a guy like future!Sam here, they'd be throwing interruptions right out the window.

**Katanagirl16**- I'm an evil writer, my dear. It's my goal in life to get my characters hot and bothered, and then ruin it with a phone call! Using Bumblebee was a bonus! XD

**Spedclass**- Thanks.^^

**Violetlight**- lol~ I live to get my readers hot and bothered. ;P I couldn't resist the panty thief part- it was too rich, if not too over the top, for me to let it lie. Glad you enjoyed it.^^ And you're very welcome~ The essay turned out fantastically, so it's flattering that you even considered to use my work.

**You. Broke. A. Promise.**- Yeah, interruptions do suck.

**Leoshunny1985**- Thanks so much.^^

**FunkyFish1991**- We've discussed this before, my friend. I am an evil, evil writer, and I revel in my evilness! *Muahahahahahahahaha* Sending in Blue and Bee to mess with Sam and Mikaela were like major bonuses. XD Yeah, it is an erotic romance story, but at least I gave forewarning and put it under M. It's my favourite genre to write under- so much fun, whether it be human sex or giant alien robot sex. xD Don't worry about all the alerts- it's awesome to know you're getting into the stories enough to fave 'em! :D

**Fath8252**- Thanks so much. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far.^^

**Prizz**- Wow! You read chaps 1 to 11 in one sitting?! Holy cow, you must have liked the story! Hopefully you enjoy this chapter as well.

**Pinktonks**- Thanks so much for your kind review. I'm glad you enjoy the little details I insert into the story- it's part of my writing style that I'm becoming notorious for. ^^; I'll do my best to keep up my work.^^

**Obelisk of Light**- Autobot timing is the best timing there is! Can't get any better comic timing than them! XD

**Bunnylass**- My goodness, girl, you outdo yourself every time, don't you? Every review you leave is like getting to the top of a rollercoaster, and reading it is like shooting down the ride. I'm really glad that you enjoyed the fun and flirty nature of chapter 11; chapter 10 was really heavy with the material covered in the last half of it. There definitely needed to be some lighthearted play and hot-dirty sex to lighten the mood. xD And who better to have hot-dirty sex than Mikaela and Sam? Damn if they're not fun to write for! You have no idea how much I appreciate your opinions on the writing- hearing that you enjoy my style of writing and how I write the erotic scenes of this romance is really encouraging for me to try to write an actual one for reality. Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the story with all its twists and turns.^^

**Wickle**- My goodness, this is the first TF fic you've ever read? That's amazing! I'm really glad you've enjoyed it thus far! :D

**Impeccableblahs**- Shia really is great as an actor, but my favourite role from him will always remain as Sam Witwicky of Transformers. I'm flattered that you hopped into this story without being a TF fan and actually stuck with it for 11 chapters. Thank you so much for the consideration, and even more so for the review you left. You're too kind. :)

**Ibelieveintruelove**- Thank you so much for your review. I've done my best examining Sam and Mikaela's relationship, their issues, and rebuilding the spark that once was between them, but there still is a lot more to go. It'll be interesting to see where their relationship goes.^^

**Lecidre**- My dear, it's so goo to read your reviews again! How I've missed hearing your views on the latest chapters~ Your opinions really do mean a lot to me and your enthusiasm is always an inspiration. *hug* Sam and his little panty-thief episode was just a little bit of harmless fun. He didn't mean any harm by it, and if Mikaela's panties had fallen out in public, he would have just said they were his. He's totally the kind of guy to joke about wearing woman's underwear! xD And their almost-sex scene was a riot to write, especially with the interruptions courtesy of Bumblebee and Bluestreak. They're dears, they are! Much love and hugs, my friend! *hug*

**Avatarofdiscord**- Thanks.^^

**Stargirl0507**- Um, okay?

**Chapter 12**

They glanced at each other across the table, smiled when the heat of last night's romp simmered in them, and then looked away with soft chuckles.

Last night had been... God, it had been _good_.

Better than good, actually. More like soul-searing, back-bruising, accidentally-break-the-furniture kind of great. In their defence, that stupid coffee table already had a wobble to it; that leg was just looking for a reason to fall off.

The only reason they had tapered off in the early hours of the morning, other than being satiated to the soul and insanely exhausted, was because Bluestreak started calling them every half hour after two in the morning to inform them that they had been going at their physical peaks for hours and he was worried. Upon the alien's third attempted call of goodwill, Sam accidentally cracked the hotel phone with his right hand. Of course, by that time, both humans were deliciously sore in all the right places. Sam was even too drained to snap at Bluestreak properly. Seconds after hanging up, they were both out cold on the carpet.

Sadly, the bed had been too far to make it.

The kiss of the mid-morning sun was what finally roused them from the floor. While the memories of the night lingered hotly beneath their skin, there had been a brief attempt at maturity as they prepared to part ways. It lasted all of ten minutes until they got into a shoving match trying to get into the shower first, which ended in Sam hauling Mikaela over his shoulder and bringing her in with him. He received a wallop to the back of the head for his troubles, as well as a brand new love bite courtesy of her. It hurt, but hell if it wasn't worth it. As far as he was concerned, she was the sexiest creature on the planet when he made her come.

To round it off, Sam offered to take her out for one last meal. After a night of hot and heavy sex, who could refuse? The little breakfast shop he took her to was cloistered away in the heart of the city, sunny windows overlooking the morning traffic and its insides sweet with the aromas of cinnamon and coffee. A quaint wooden sign hanging out front announced the shop as the _Morning Dove. _It was a little place Bumblebee had actually brought Sam to once to insist on his friend eating something before diving into work for the day. As it stood now, the _Morning Dove_ was also great place to have one last meal between the weekend lovers before they parted ways.

Their eyes strayed to each other again, Sam swallowing hard as he watched a strawberry disappear between Mikaela's ripe lips. She chewed thoughtfully, savouring the sweet taste, and then swallowed with all the luxury in the world. It was the luckiest strawberry in the universe. Cocking a single eyebrow, she offered him a slow smile that had the front of his pants tightening. If he spent any longer in her company, he was going to end up becoming a nymphomaniac.

"Stop staring, you're going to give me a complex," she warned playfully.

"You're not making it easy to look away," he growled, groaning as she chose yet another berry from her fruit platter and wrapped her lips around it in the same fashion she had taken him into her mouth the night before. A devious little laugh twinkled from her when she realized exactly what effect she was having on him. The mere sound sent a wave of heat straight to his loins. It didn't help matters when Mikaela slipped loose from her shoe and placed the fleshy pad of her foot to the crotch of his jeans. She was positively evil when she started to rub the thick bulge growing there.

"Does that make things easier for you?" she asked, acting as if she were the epitome of innocence. The game was too much fun to give up. Watching tough, sexy, Autobot warrior Sam squirm in his seat was nothing short of dangerously entertaining.

"No, that makes things a hell of a lot _harder_," he growled. Damn her, that smile was anything but innocent. All it took was a little touch, a smile, hell- just the sound of her voice was enough to have him hard as steel. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever been so horny! If only they weren't in public. He'd be buried to the hilt in her by now, trying not to go mad as her tight, wet sheath milked him dry. _'Don't think about it, man. Don't think about it. It's only going to make things worse.'_

"You're right, that does make things a lot harder," she conceded, absently letting a grape play around her mouth. The grape disappeared with a wet pop, replaced with another dark fleshy globe of fruit.

Sam lacked a snappy comeback, although he did make a distinct squeaky noise like all the air in his lungs was slowly being sucked out.

"Your food is getting cold," she pointed out lightly, shifting in her booth seat so that her back could rest against the wall and both her feet could come to rest in Sam's lap.

"I can see that," he replied tightly, nostrils flaring. In an attempt to prevent himself from doing something ridiculously stupid, like bending Mikaela across the table and having his way with her, he gripped the vinyl seat beneath him. Unfortunately, vinyl did nothing to withstand the sexually frustrated strength of his Cybertronian arm.

"Aren't you hungry?" That was a double-edged question if there ever was one. The pads of her feet pressed against his erection, stroking until Sam saw stars behind his eyelids. A hot streak of possession and desire hit him when he saw how much Mikaela was getting off on his own arousal. Her eyes were shining with honeyed desire, a flush working its way across her tanned flesh.

"Yes, I'm _hungry_," he growled darkly. A shiver passed through Mikaela's body, straight through her feet and into his cock. He just about laid his head down on the table and died.

"Well, aren't you going to eat?" She nodded to his scrambled eggs, only to watch as he pushed them aside. Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip as she watched him.

"I can think of a few other things I'd rather be eating right now." The look in his eyes let her know exactly what he meant.

Mikaela cleared her throat a little distractedly, finding the coffee shop a little too warm for her liking. Another growl shivered through Sam and passed into the soles of her feet, shooting straight up her legs and into her core. Whatever kind of twisted game she'd started was suddenly getting to be a little more than that. Especially now that Sam had taken upon himself to capture her right foot and stroke it.

"Sam!" she hissed. That tickled!

He grinned liked the handsome devil he was. "What?" His index finger scraped over her heel, across her arch, tickling along the skin.

"Stop that!" she ordered, trying to jerk her foot back. Her first attempt had her kicking the table by accident, which was probably going to leave a bruise. Her second attempt resulted in Sam's mechanical arm capturing her foot, meaning zero chance of escape.

"I'm just giving you a taste of your own medicine," he said lightly, offering her a surprisingly pleasant smile that contrasted wildly with the painful case of blueballs he was suffering from. Predictably, her left foot shot to kick him, resulting in its subsequent capture. The grin that lit his face only serve to drive the woman to more desperate heights to try and escape.

"Sam, I'm warning you-."

"You're at _my_ mercy now, Mickey." For good measure, he yanked both her feet, watching as she disappeared beneath the tabletop with a yelp. He laughed, struggling briefly as Mikaela attempted to kick free; he wasn't going to give her the opportunity. Any chance he got, he tickled her, causing broken little shrieks to rise from her and fuel his laughter more. Finally, she managed to get a good grip on the seat and haul herself up.

"You'll pay for that, Witwicky," she growled, glaring across the tabletop.

"Really? And here I thought _I_ was the one getting revenge on you." He tugged her feet again, watching her disappear again. He had the audacity to laugh when she cursed him out, telling him of a very hot place to go, and it _wasn't_ the desert.

The minor commotion caught the eye of a young man a few booths down. He did a double-take of Sam's face, paused to remember where he'd seen it, and then jumped up excitedly when he remembered. Recognizing the look of a fan coming his way, Sam leaned back, put on his best smile, and offered a quick warning to Mikaela as she scrambled to pull herself up. "Word to the wise, hide down there and don't come up-."

"What? _Why-?_"

"Stay down unless you want to be on some guy's Facebook for lurking beneath famous peoples' tables."

She bristled, about to hiss something, only to swallow her words when a pair of khaki-covered legs appeared. _'You have got to be kidding me!' _

As per the usual theatrics people went through when they encountered a semi-celebrity, the speckle-faced youth coughed nervously and scuffed his foot along the floor. "You wouldn't be- I mean, I sorry for bothering you, but by any chance, would you-? Are you-?"

"Sam Witwicky?" Sam offered helpfully.

"Yes," the youth sighed, relieved to have the burden of the name out of the way. "Are you him?"

"Indeed I am," Sam replied, extending his hand in greeting. He didn't dare stand up, well aware that a part of his anatomy was still standing tall. His young fan hardly seemed to notice as he jumped on Sam's offered hand and shook it excitedly.

"This is so cool! I was so going to see you at the book signing this afternoon, but seeing you here-! Oh man! Can I take a picture with you? Or get an autograph?"

"Sure, anything you like," Sam laughed, ignoring Mikaela as she pinched his leg to let him know that she didn't want to be under there long. A knapsack was swung around and rooted through for a dog-eared copy of one of his books that would have been inevitably signed at the book signing. It thrust out with a flourish, the poor kid's hands shaking from excitement.

"Can you make it out to Brendon? Uh- I mean, can you do it, _please_?"

"Sure. No problem." Plucking away the pen that was offered to him, Sam scrawled a message across the front cover to Brendon, and then posed genially for a quick picture. He may not have been the best actor in the world, but he was doing a pretty good job pretending that wasn't crawling out of his own skin. No one would even guess there was a hot woman practically hiding between his legs at the moment. Unfortunately, the extra attention Brendon was awarding him was stirring the rest of the shop's patrons, instantly setting a few more people on him for autographs and pictures. Even if he was only a writer, not like an actual celebrity you'd see on TV, his semi-celebrity status couple with his good looks ensured that he was bound to get a little bit of fanfare.

Mikaela growled, pressing herself as close to the wall as possible. Sure, she could pop up at any moment, but hell if she didn't want her face pasted all over the internet with a line about giving hot author Sam Witwicky a blow job in a coffee shop. There might not have been internet access at the Vautzs' house, but just knowing something like that existed would ruin her good mood for life. When Sam started welcoming a group of young college girls with his charms turned on full blast, a hot streak of annoyance burned through her. Could he be any more of a manwhore? _Seriously?_ Yes, he had good looks and charm, but did he have to act like he knew it? That was just a major piss off, especially to people _trapped beneath the table while he whored it up!_ Telling herself she wasn't the slightest bit jealous, she ripped a few hairs from Sam's leg to get him to stop. He jumped with a yelp, shooing her hands away with a distracted swat. His female admires backed off a step.

"Is everything okay, Mr Witwicky?" one of the girls asked worriedly. From what Mikaela could see of her, she had mile-long legs and was wearing a skirt smaller than some belts. One of them bent to check under the table to see what the problem was, only to find her chin caught on Sam's fingers and lifted to meet his gaze.

"Everything's just fine now that you're here, sweetheart." He just about gagged himself with the line. Thankfully, his female fans predictably swooned, completely forgetting about checking the floor. Had anyone bothered to look at Mikaela at that moment, they would have seen a woman thoroughly disgusted with her own sex for falling for such a pathetic line. It was a blessing that they were shooed away quickly after autographs; one of them had their shirt signed, two actually had their own copies of Sam's books on them, and one bold woman pulled the low-scooped neck of her shirt back to have her cleavage signed. Cleavage-girl even slipped Sam her number. As soon as they were gone, a sharp flick in the vicinity of his left thigh caused Sam to look down into the positively appalled face of Mikaela Banes.

"They were _so_ coming on to you," she huffed.

He traced his thumb over her cheek, down to her full lips. "Don't be jealous, they had nothing on you."

"I'm not jealous," she sniped, smacking him away.

"Good, so you wouldn't mind getting rid of this for me, will you?" he said, cheerfully handing over the phone number he just acquired. There was no shortage of amusement as he watched Mikaela shred the little scrap of paper into confetti. With an impassioned harrumph, she threw the paper bits to the floor.

A smiling waitress wandered over, peering curiously as Sam as he continued to have a conversation with his lap. "Quite popular today, aren't you?" she broached cheerfully as she came abreast of the booth. The mid-length tablecloth prevented her from seeing Mikaela, much like everyone else, so she assumed Sam was merely talking on the phone via a headset.

With another handsome smile trained on his face, Sam nodded. "It would seem so, but I'm used to it." He let his mug be taken, the coffee refreshed. The moment it was set back in front of him, he brought it to his mouth and swallowed back a mouthful. It burned all the way down- hot, black, and as strong as battery acid. Not the way he usually liked his coffee, but it was good enough to give him an extra jolt of wakefulness. Without it, he'd be out cold on the table catching up on the sleep he didn't get last night... not that he was complaining about the reason he didn't sleep.

"Are you enjoying everything else today, sir? Nothing more I can get you?" she enquired, glancing curiously at the uneaten plate of eggs at his elbow and the bowl of assorted fruit on the other side of the table. She could have sworn he'd come in with a lady-friend earlier. Had she gone to the bathroom or something?

"Oh yes, everything's fine," Sam assured, dragging his plate and picking up a fork. "I've been meaning to dig into this, but kept getting distracted. I'll finally be able to dig in now." He caught her curious looks towards the fruit. "Ah, my girlfriend's," he intoned, smiling fondly at the mere idea. "One of the reasons I was so distracted."

'_Girlfriend?' _Mikaela mouthed incredulously, her eyebrows shooting up so high that they disappeared into her hairline. It wasn't that she minded the word, albeit a part of her knew she shouldn't have been so comfortable with the idea of being Sam's girlfriend (again), it was the fact that he said it with such a smug tone. He knew she was listening and said it just to big her. He was enjoying that little part of the fantasy _way_ too much. _'I'll show you 'girlfriend'!' _Without thinking of the repercussions, she boldly reached out a palmed Sam's now semi-erect penis through his jeans, laughing to herself as he jumped even higher than he had when she'd pulled his leg hair. Even more satisfying was how quick his dick jumped at her touch. _'Take that, Sam Witwicky!'_

The waitress tottered back in surprise. "Um- sir?"

"Uh- dammit, I'm fine!"

To make matters worse, Bluestreak's hologram suddenly waltzed into the establishment, looking beside himself as he trotted towards his human associate. "Sam! I've been trying to call you for the last _hour_! I think you still have your phone turned off!" He skidded to a halt next to the table, arms flailing emphatically as he tried to form English words. Suddenly he froze, sensors catching up with him, eyeing the booth oddly. "Mikaela, you can stop fondling Sam! This is no place nor time to be stimulating sexual arousal!"

Mikaela's head rammed so hard against the underside of the booth the table actually jumped. The unmistakable _'Fuck!'_ that followed confirmed her presence under there. Seconds later, a rather beautiful woman crawled out, looking disastrously guilty and in quite a bit of pain. Sam slapped a hand over his face, once again cursing the unbelievable timing every Autobot seemed to be ingrained with.

"Oh my god-!" the startled waitress hopped back to get out of Mikaela's way, hand over her mouth to hide the open-mouthed grin that now resided there. She was _so_ blogging about this when she got off work!

Sam sent her a pointed look. "This is probably not the worst thing you've ever seen in this city," he said. "If you walk away now, there'll be a big tip in it for you."

She left without further word, rushing back to the counter to share the newest piece of juicy gossip with his co-workers. Chattering laughter that followed shortly after, plus the glittering glances a few of the other shop employees sent their way, let Sam and Mikaela know exactly what kind of story had been cooked up for them. It was better than getting asked to leave, but still...

"_Thank you_, Bluestreak," Sam drawled through clenched teeth.

"You could have been a little more subtle about it," Mikaela chastised dourly, poking at the crown of her head. Bloody hell, it hurt so bad she was seeing stars.

"C'mere, let me see that," Sam insisted. He caught one of her belt loops on his index finger, guiding her to sit next to him so he could make sure her skull hadn't cracked open.

Bluestreak had the decency to look embarrassed, but only because he'd unintentionally caused Mikaela to be hurt."I'm sorry, I really am, but I have been trying for the last hour to contact you. Do you know how frustrating it is to be sitting out on the curb and not even be able to talk to you? I can't even see you from where I'm parked. I've already had five teenagers stop to pose and take pictures with me and a woman, who I'm guessing suffers from mechaphilia, rub up against me in a very disturbing manner. But that's not even why I was trying to get a hold of you! I had something far more important to tell you, and here you are, engaging in public foreplay. You ignore me for such a trivial matter! It's not like you didn't engage with each other all last night!" He huffed, pouting.

"Dammit, Blue, what have I told you about intimate human matters are shouting them in public! Don't do it!" Sam growled. "What could possibly be so important that you've been trying to get a hold of me for the last hour? Why didn't you just walk in here in the first place?"

"I had a very good reason, one which you would have heard if your cell was on!" Bluestreak glanced around, determining that what he had to say was best to be conveyed in a less public tone. He leaned in, allowing for both Mikaela and Sam to hear him. "First of all, there has been suspicious activity registered in the area. I can't say for sure if it's Decepticon or not, but it's enough to make me nervous... I didn't want to come in here in the first place because I can't mask my Autobot signature in a hologram. If a 'Con is out there right now, I'm basically a beacon to him- a great big holographic human-shaped beacon."

Mikaela's hand unconsciously sought Sam's, gripping it. He squeezed her hand in return in an automatic gesture of assurance. He didn't even have to think about doing it.

"Okay, thanks for the heads up on possible 'Con activity. I'll keep my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary," Sam replied firmly, nodding.

"Alright, good. Just so you know," Bluestreak sighed, relieved to have that information passed on.

Sam noted that the hologram was lingering, which was not something one would do after reporting that said hologram was nothing but a beacon to the enemy. "Is there anything else you'd like to say before you turn your hologram off?" Always a loaded question to be asking Blustreak, but experience told him that in situations like this, the snipper generally did have important opinions to voice.

"Just one more thing, and it's quick," the blue-haired holo assured. "If you don't hurry up in here, you're going to be late for your afternoon book signing."

Sam blinked, clearly surprised. "Shit, really?"

"Yes."

To satisfy his own curiosity, he switched on his cell phone and confirmed the time. When had it gotten so late? He thought he had more time! He looked to Mikaela, only to find her face had turned grim with the mere thought of Decepticons in the area. Their connected hands tightened, and Sam drew her closer to his side. He was reluctant to let her go, and for a moment, Mikaela looked to be reluctant to be let go. Bluestreak sighed as he watched them, his hologram pixelating momentarily. A sudden idea struck Sam as he watched Blue straighten his matrix.

"Hey, Blue, you think you could do me a favour?" he broached carefully.

"What could that be?" Bluestreak wondered, tipping his head.

"Go to the book signing for me."

It took a moment for the stupidity of the request to process completely, after which Bluestreak threw up his hands and backed away. "Oh no, Sam, there is no way I am going to do something that is so obviously a blatant disregard of my guardian duties! Especially not after I just told you there is possible activity in the area, and you know having me active like this would only serve to draw attention this way. Bumblebee would kill me if anything happened to you!"

"Nevermind what Bee would do. He won't raise a servo to you if I have anything to say about it. Having extra attention drawn your way is exactly what we want right now, if you would just hear me out. Bee has stood in for me a few times- all you need to do is adjust your matrix a little bit and put on a smile. It's not that hard to be me; don't talk too much and you'll do fine. I can take care of myself while you're doing this. You know full well that I can fight if the situation calls for it."

Blue ran a hand through his electric-blue hair, and then went about fiddling with his buttons. "Why is it so important that you have me in your place for this afternoon?"

"I want to drive Mikaela home," Sam intoned earnestly, slipping his hand out of her grip in order to put his arm around her waist. "If you keep active like this, you'll draw attention to yourself, leaving Mikaela and I in the clear for now. All I want is to get her home safely without involving her in another Mission City. She doesn't want to be a part of this war and I can't make her, so the least I can do is get her out of here in one piece-."

Mikaela's heart fluttered, looking to Sam's eyes to see how much he meant those words. He was determined to keep her safe and respect her wishes to stay away from war.

"I swear, Blue, if you do this for me, I will forgive every past transgression that has ever passed between us. I'll even forgive any future ones that are bound to happen. I'll wash and detail you for a year and take a few shifts whenever you want me to. Just step in for me this once."

Bluestreak fiddled with his holo-shirt buttons again, his bright blue eyes measuring Sam carefully, and then looking to Mikaela. He sighed as he looked at her, smiling fondly. "You really want to keep her safe, don't you?" he wondered quietly.

Sam's arm tightened fractionally, his own gaze tracing her profile. "Yes, I really do."

As if the hologram could see something that no human could pick up, Blue smiled and nodded. "Alright, I'll take your place this afternoon."

"Thank you," Sam replied wholeheartedly.

Mikaela worried her lower lip between her teeth. "If there really is a Decepticon in the area, you don't have to put yourself at risk, Blue."

A moment passed where Bluestreak seemed unsure of what he could say to the female human, but as her worried gaze persisted, the hologram's odd stare softened into a smile, the kind of smile that revealed a sadness that only came from eons of war. "I have been an Autobot for a very long time, Mikaela. I can take care of myself in a fight, should the need arise. What I wish most of all is for you to stay safe- we only met yesterday, but I can see how much Sam cares for you, and you for him, and something so precious should be protect from the likes of war." He touched her cheek, the tips of his fingers strangely soft. "Will you promise me to stay safe?"

A little unsure of how to react to such a confession, Mikaela nodded slowly. "I promise."

"Good." Blue's face broke out into a grin as he pressed his forehead to hers in what she could only guess was an alien form of affection. "You two get going now. I'll head to the bookstore."

Sam left a handful of twenties on the table, not caring how much he overpaid for a meal he never ate. He guided Mikaela out genially, Bluestreak trotting along at her other side. Once out on street again, Sam steered her one way while the hologram went the other.

"I'll see you back on base tonight," Bluestreak called, his holo-matrix already changed into an exact replica of Sam.

"See you then," Sam intoned, waving once before heading towards Mikaela's old Ford parked a short ways down the street. Once again employing the use of his talented fingers, he snatched the keys from Mikaela's back pocket and opened the passenger's side door for her. "I'll drive," he offered, his smile warm as he held the door for her.

"I'm capable of driving," Mikaela huffed playfully, though she put up no resistance.

"I know you're capable, but I'm offering. Nothing wrong with a little bit of chivalry, right?" Sam wheedled, even going so far as to offer his hand to help her up, which Mikaela distinctly rolled her eyes at.

"The jury's still out on that," she teased, easing herself into the seat nonetheless.

With a light chuckle, Sam shut the door and hopped around to the driver's side. It took a few turns, but the engine eventually growled to life, the body of the truck rattling on its last bolts. "This thing is so old," he laughed.

"Hey, it got us here in one piece, didn't it? And it'll get us where we're going, too," she countered, patting the dash fondly. After a second, she sent him a curious look."You know, I understand you wanting to drive me home, and believe me, I don't mind, but how the heck are you going to get to Nevada after you drop me off? I am so not giving you my truck and I'll be damned if I let you drive me all the way there only to have to drive back home by myself."

"No faith in me at all," he sighed with mock-hurt in his gaze. "Don't worry, as soon as we get to the Vautzs', I'll call someone to pick me up. It's not that big a deal. Bluestreak will probably be on his way back, so I'll catch a ride with him." They pulled into traffic and began negotiating through the late morning/early afternoon crush.

"Just so long as you don't get your hopes up that I'll share my loft with you if you get stranded," she teased.

"Where's the hospitality?" he whined.

"In the garage, on a cot, where Gloria shows all the other guests her hospitality," Mikaela laughed, her smile widening when Sam joined in. Despite the idea of a Decepticons possibly lurking nearby, she felt at ease in Sam's company. He was doing his best to protect her, keep her safe... She reached out and grasped his hand as it rested on the gear shift. "Thanks for doing this," she said, squeezing his hand lightly. "It means a lot to me."

Sam glanced over at her, his face morphing into a smile that made his eyes shine. "Don't worry about it. I'm doing this because I want to."

"But still, you're nice enough to drive me home. I'm grateful." Her fingers traced the light blue veins crisscrossing the back of Sam's hand. "What I don't get are Bluestreak's reasons... We only met yesterday, and yet he's putting his life in danger for a complete stranger."

There was a pause before the answer, Sam's smile taking on an almost sad tone. "He's an Autobot for one- they're basically programmed for that sort of thing, in case you've forgotten. But, aside from that, Bluestreak has his own reasons."

Mikaela waited for a few seconds, sensing Sam's hesitation to continue. Once more her hand wrapped around the rough warmth of his own to encourage him. "And they are?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "It's been a long time since any of the Autobots here have seen their loved ones. They're still waiting for that ship to come in, if it ever does..." His smile faded completely, his eyes turning distant. "All of the Autobots, not just Bluestreak- they've been fighting for longer than any of us can imagine without knowing where in the universe the loved ones they're fighting for are, if they're even out there at all. Waiting for all that time... it would make anyone appreciate love wherever they find it."

Mikaela wondered if he was even aware of taking her hand, rubbing the pad across her palm. Her question was answered when he raised her hand to his lips and left a lingering kiss there, though he didn't dare take his eyes off the bustling streets. _Appreciate love wherever they find it. _Could the same be said for Sam and her? Is that what Bluestreak could see between them; he stayed in the city in order to protect whatever kind of love his human friends had found? She gave her head a little shake. There was no point in thinking that way- not about love, anyways. The only thing at the end of that road was heartache.

Sam sensed more than saw the change in her, feeling as her body drooped and her eyes glazed. Not the effect he was looking for when he'd let those words slip. Putting his own thoughts on the matter aside, he nudged her with his elbow, getting her to perk up. "You can rest, if you want," he offered. "I know for a fact that you didn't get any sleep last night, so get some now and I'll wake you up when we get to the Vautzs'."

"I..." she regarded him carefully, a thoughtful frown in place. When she could find nothing to protest, she turned herself so that her back was to the door, hunching a little to get comfortable. "Okay, I'll take a nap, but you better not kidnap me."

"Scout's honour," he assured.

She frowned deeper. "You never were a scout."

He tipped her a crooked smirk. "Never a boy scout, but I am an Autobot one- that's gotta count for something."

"I don't know, does it?" Nevertheless, she allowed herself to relax, even slipping her feet from her shoes once more and curling her legs up along the bench seat beside her. A beckoning arm stretched out, waving her to Sam's side. She shook her head, curling up tighter to the door. He sighed, patting the worn material of the seat beside him. She shook her head a little more firmly this time. "No way. Seatbelt's over here."

"There's a seatbelt in the middle, now slide over before I make you." He clapped the seat for emphasis.

One eyebrow shot up. "Is that an order?"

Another crooked grin lit his features. "Do you want it to be?"

"For the love of God, Sam," she sighed, waiting until they stopped at a red light to unclip her seatbelt and slide over a seat. When she didn't move over far enough, a strong arm curled around her waist and brought her to his side, giving her no choice but to lay her head to his shoulder and curl her knees up onto her vacated seat by the door.

"Just can't say no to me, can you?" he murmured teasingly into her ear. The feel of his breath running down her neck made her shiver, bringing back all the delicious things he'd done to her the night before. Instead of giving him the answer he wanted, she gave him her own.

"Shut up."

Snappy comebacks notwithstanding, it didn't take long for her to slip into a light doze on Sam's shoulder. Being so close to his solid presence, his warm scent, the gentle touch of his hand to her hip; he made her feel safe, protected.

Once sure she was delightfully unaware of her surroundings, Sam's demeanour shifted from civilian to soldier. There was no point in being sloppy if there were 'Cons in the city. He carefully scanned the dozens of packed cars inching along around him. All of them had the potential to be an enemy. Even with all his years of experience hunting them, it was still tricky trying to decipher an ordinary Earth car from an alien. Being robots in disguise wasn't just a catchphrase for them- they were damn good at hiding when they wanted to be. Just in case they were being followed, he turned down several false streets, scanning for suspicious activity behind him. When nothing pertinent showed up, he made his way towards city limits, feeling the bustle of city life fade as skyscrapers turned to suburban housing, and then finally shrunk away all together into desert.

Feeling better now that he was out from craze Phoenix presented, Sam allowed himself to relax a little. Thirty minutes into the desert on the forgotten highway leading to the Vautzs' homestead made it painfully obvious that no cars of any manner were following, Decepticon or otherwise. The only thing to be seen for miles was the black ribbon of single-lane highway twisting amongst parched earth and golden dunes. With the exception of the wind tossing brambles across the empty expanse, the landscape was largely unchanged. Miles and miles of heat, haze, and absolutely no air conditioning in the truck. Thank god the windows rolled down, at least. It was barely enough. When the drone of the Ford became too lonely, he fiddled with the radio and found a station that didn't crackle too badly, letting the retro-rock tunes zone him out of reality.

If he didn't let himself think too much, he could almost imagine that this was the way his life might have turned out if Mikaela hadn't walked away, or what it would have become if he'd walked away with her. What he wouldn't give for a taste of peace like this in his normal life. Even better, what he wouldn't give to let go of the life he held now and just live the quiet existence Mikaela invited; no robots, no fighting, no war.

He watched her sleeping form from the corner of his eye, chest tight with the immediate reaction of seeing her curled into his side. If things had turned out differently, if they'd stayed together, he had no doubt they would have been married by now. Maybe he would have gone on to get his degree first, and she probably would have went to vocational school for her mechanics certificate, but sometime in between, he would have happily gotten down on one knee for her. Hell, even for the two years they'd been together, he had been thinking about it. It was almost embarrassing to think about, but he'd been such a lovesick puppy for her back then. He would have done anything for her. Instead of battle after battle and cold beds warmed by strange women, he would have had the soft body of the woman he loved to curl up against at night and make love to until dawn. She would have kept him from becoming a workaholic hellbent on killing himself. He would have made damn sure that the frown lines he saw shadowing her perfect face never existed. If he had anything to say about it, they would have been laugh lines instead.

He dared to turn his eyes away from the road to see her fully, letting the sweet intoxication of her scent rouse his senses. Her body fit to his as if she had always been there by his side. One of her arms wrapped around his waist as if to tell the world that he belonged to her and no one else. It was true, though. Even as he drove her home, he knew his heart was hers. There was never going to be another woman for him, not like Mikaela Banes. She was one of a kind.

He laid a kiss to her forehead before turning back to the road. A soft groan murmured in his ear, eliciting a chuckle from him. She was out cold.

Carefully, he traced her lips with the pad of his thumb, blindly following the line of her jaw. Warmth radiated from her body, heating his already sweaty palm further. Under his fingertips, he felt her pulse, brushed her breasts, traced her arm. This weekend had been about rediscovering each other, from their pasts to their present to their bodies. A flicker of regret passed through him as he thought of the sixteen years he could have spent memorizing her. Despite the battles fought and won, it seemed like wasted time compared to what could have been. She was the kind of person he would never get enough of. Jealousy also singed within his ribcage as he thought of other lovers she might have had, all of whom had left their mark on her heart. Her fragile heart so easily broken. Those men were idiots for letting her go; they didn't know the jewel they already had.

She wiggled as he counted her ribs, and then sighed when he followed the generous curve of her waist. Giving into his desires a little more, the hem of her grubby wifebeater was tugged back and he slipped his palm under. Even without seeing, he knew what her golden flesh looked like, tasted like. If he thought anymore about it, the burgeoning erection he was once again sporting was going to get a hell of a lot more demanding. He might even have to pull over.

The softness of her belly distracted him. Another flash of what could have been crossed his mind, making his gut clench with the possibility. He could see her pregnant, carrying his child. He would have worshipped her every day of the pregnancy. She'd be so beautiful, and she would have made an amazing mother... Fuck, just the thought of having a family of his own did funny things to him. An honest-to-god family with a wife and kids, and maybe even a stupid dog. Something like what Lennox had- people to come home to at the end of the day. Sure, the Lennox brood treated him like family, he was 'Uncle Sam' who they saw every day and had over for dinner almost every night, but it wasn't the same as a family of his own. Will had been trying to tell him that for years. A kickass mechanic wife who was tougher than nails and crazy monster kids running around everywhere driving him nuts. That's what he wished he had, and probably could have had if things had been different.

A self-deprecating laugh slipped from his lips. He was letting his imagination run away with him; the ship for that particular dream of normalcy sailed away a long time ago.

A new noise tickled his ear, a warm purr as Mikaela came back from her doze. He froze. "Don't stop- that feels good," she murmured, rolling over a little to allow better access.

"Sorry if I woke you," he said quietly, tracing patterns over her belly as requested.

"It's fine, I don't mind," she mumbled. Moving on instinct rather than reason, she pressed a sleepy kiss to the side of his neck, lingering there to enjoy his scent. It felt so natural to wake up next to him, to be this comfortable. Was she still dreaming? No, he smelled too good to be a dream. This was reality at its finest. "How long have I been out?"

"About an hour, maybe more," he replied.

"Mmhmmm... just a catnap, then." A long, drawn out stretch followed. One of the best catnaps she'd ever had in her life. Sam's cell chirped with an alert to a new text message. "I'll get it," Mikaela announced, rolling over to pat his pockets. Her search did nothing to calm his arousal; the purposeful brush of her hand as she drew away was even less helpful. She read the text quickly and then stuffed the phone away. "That was Bee- Blue told him we were heading out, so he's meeting us half way."

"Sounds good."

She blinked at his matter-of-fact answer. "...Isn't the Autobots' base still in the middle of Nevadan desert?"

Sam smirked. "He can drive _really_ fast."

A brief silence fell between as Mikaela cleared her head of the remnants of her nap. Liquid eyes peered up at her companion for a few seconds, warily at first to see if he was going to tease her about snoring or drooling, but softened when she saw something akin to a deep loneliness lingering in his eyes. It made her wonder what he had been thinking about while she was out. Whatever it was looked to have struck him deep. Could he have been thinking of her? That wasn't self-centered to wish that, was it? Was he really going to miss her that much after he dropped her off? It didn't seem fair, really, not even to were having too good a time together to let it end on such a quiet note. The least she could do was give him something to remember her by, one last good memory.

Without warning, Mikaela's hand snuck out and cupped Sam through his jeans. The resulting jerk of the wheel nearly sent them off the road.

"Warn me before you do something like that! I'm driving, woman!" he gasped, swallowing the lump in his throat that could only have been his stampeding heart. If he hadn't been hard before, he was now. He even felt a little lightheaded from the immediate rush of blood down to his loins.

"Oh, come on. I didn't surprise you that badly," she chastised, pumping him a few times for effect. Was it wrong that she was just as turned on by this? What were the chances of staying on the road if she hopped on his lap and rode him 'til his eyes rolled back?

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Do. Not. Close. Eyes. "Mickey, I don't know what you think you're doing-."

"Really now? 'Cause I thought it was obvious."

"-but you better stop before you make us crash." A long hiss passed by his lips as she dragged down his zipper. For all intents and purposes, she was ignoring him. "I'm serious, Mik- Mikae- ah! Mikaela!" The grip of his right hand crushed the steering wheel as quick-fingered hands delved in and released his straining member. If it wasn't for the need to keep the vehicle moving, he would have curled right out of his seat as her thumb traced the sensitive mushroomed head of his dick. Latent unspent arousal from that morning was only adding to the intensity as he panted around his next words. "W-why are you-?"

She gave him a good squeeze, hot and excited to have the feel of Sam's thick staff throbbing in her palm. "Think of it as our last chance to make a happy memory."

"You want to make memories _now_?" His voice cracked on the end of that. How embarrassing. He thrust into her touches now, grinding to her palm. Screw driving- it's not like they'd hit anything harder than a sand dune out here.

"Now's as good a time as any." Complete with cheeky smile. Very, very kissable cheeky smile. Of course, her free hand just happened to reach down his pants to fondle his balls, and then all he saw were stars.

It was hard enough keeping his eyes on the road as it was, but as soon as she leaned in to place another kiss on his neck, he lost it. Yanking the truck to the shoulder of the road, he threw the parking brake on and ripped off the seatbelt restraining him. In seconds, Mikaela was unbuckled and underneath him, her back plastered to the front seat. Her shorts were gone in a flash, her new panties ripped off with no regard. Her cheeky smile turned hungry, sensuous; she arched her body against his, grinding her core to his erection. Damn, was she ever wet. Wet and wanting.

A heady, territorial growl rumbled from Sam was he looked down at her. Lips parted, cheeks flushed, her legs spread in blatant invitation to him; a hot lash of possessiveness burned in his chest. As much as he had given his heart and body to her, the beast inside him roared that she belonged to him, body and soul. A fair exchange, really. A single thrust had him buried to the hilt in her. Not even the heat of the desert compared to the heat of her body. Silken walls pulsed, squeezing him. Her legs came around his waist, locking her heels in the small of his back. She dragged him in so deep he thought he would get lost in her. He thrust in time to her panting, urging on by impassioned mewling in his ear. Uninhibited moans scored his insides raw, her nails biting into the lean muscle of his back. All too soon, her inner muscles drew tight around his pulsing dick. His pace quickened, thrusting deeper. So close. They were both so close! Teetering on the edge! He was being drawn into her body in an irreversible, irrevocable way, with no hope of getting his soul back after this.

She shattered beneath him with a breath gasp, dragging him to completion with the force of her orgasm. Every drop of himself drained into her. They were left blinded for several seconds, all but silent as they panted in the aftermath.

What broke them from their reverie was the chirp of Sam's phone again, announcing another of Bee's texts. Unfortunately, the message was never read. Not because Sam decided to ignore his cell phone, but because when he sat up to answer it, he noticed a car unveiling itself in the review mirror. Not coming into view from the distance, but fading into view only twenty feet from where the Ford sat parked. Holographic projectors, by Sam's instant assessment.

The insignia on the grill was Decepticon.


	13. Chapter 13

The last chapter must have broken a record somewhere! I never imagined such a response from so many people! Each and every single one of you really, truly made my day with your reviews! I wish some of you would actually comment on the story itself instead of asking/demanding that I update soon, since that only pisses me off when you KNOW I'll update the story in my own time, but to those you actually left a thoughtful review that let me know they liked the story thus far and what they liked about it, thank you deeply from the bottom of my heart!

Due to the HUGE response base, I'm just going to list of the amazing readers who showed their dedication and love for this story through their reviews. This is one massive, universe-sized THANK YOU to some of the kindest, most wonderful people on the planet; **FunkyFish1991, Katanagirl16, theshadowcat, impeccableblahs, Onhiro, spedclass, Elita One, Bluebird Soaring, leoshunny1985, Obelisk of Light, FntsyDncr3168, Timberwolf, ilovenat1995, Ahmose, RAVen05, caz, You-Broke-A-Promise, ScarletEnVogue, Xweetlife, Layna San, Wickle, ibelieveintruelove, sofaki, CrazyMeHeeHee, dragonryder7, Owl Emporium, TheKoolGuy, LG Man, Sutzina Zion, Lecidre, Supermel Returns, Naruto0192, LeeMaru, bazookawhat, SonicH2O, RedneckGeek, bigguy204, MeakoXIII, Beautiful. Rosalie. Hale., Reaper85, KindaLykDiffy, lookingatstars, **and **The Night Life 13**.

You all have been shining stars! Cosmic hugs and love to you all!

**Chapter 13**

"Oh shit... _shit..."_

No wonder he hadn't see anyone following them, they had been _invisible!_

'_You damned stupid fool! Didn't you bother to notice the dust cloud rising out of nowhere behind you?!'_

He cringed at his own self-admonishment, dropping his chin to his chest as he shook his head. "_Fuck_." If anything happened to Mikaela, it was going to be his fault. He shouldn't have been so lax! So _distracted_!

"What is it?" Mikaela pressed anxiously, only to receive a growling silence as her answer. She shoved against the hard chest above her in attempts to draw Sam's attention to her. "Sam, what is it?" she hissed a little more insistently.

"_Don't move,"_ he rumbled dangerously into her ear.

The order was a no-brainer, seeing as she was pinned to the seat by Sam's wiry frame, the size of the front seat making it impossible for either of them to move freely. His once lax body was now alive with a new energy of tension, muscles tight with a kind of anticipation that made Mikaela more frightened than aroused. Finding her own sexual high fading fast, she prodded at his chest a little harder, suddenly feeling very caged beneath his weight.

"Sam-."

"_Shhhhhhhh,"_ he hissed, pressing into her so closely that he made it hard for her to draw a clear breath. The feeling of being smothered did not help her to stay calm. When she attempted to shift out from under him, he pinned her harder, forcing her further into the seat. "Don't move!" he ordered lowly, the growl of his voice sending shivers coursing through her. Something was terribly wrong now.

"You're scaring me," she breathed, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. With her shorts and panties scattered across the dash, she felt disgustingly exposed, able to feel his flesh pressed to her most intimate places, unable to push him away. She wanted to close her legs but couldn't. "Please, get off me."

He bent his mouth to her ear, his hot breath a little ragged at it rattled in her eardrum. The heat beating into the cab sucked every ounce of oxygen out, leaving the cab dry, hot, and airless. The steel-like arms curling around her made it almost impossible to breathe.

"_Mikaela, listen to me!"_ There was a hard desperation to his voice that made her freeze. When he was sure he had her attention he continued, "When I make my move, I want you to get up and run. Don't look back. Okay? I'm going to do everything I can to distract him..." As he spoke, one arm moved away to snatch her clothes, expertly manoeuvring around the cab to help dress her. He was a little too rough doing it, anxiety overriding his gentle nature.

"I don't understand- Sam, what's going on?"

"Please, just do as I say," he begged, hands fumbling with her shorts.

Her heart was suddenly too loud in her ears as a fear she knew too well starting pumping in her veins again. Of their own accord, her hands slithered down to shoo Sam away, snapping her shorts closed definitively. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears now, her tongue burning with a familiar acrid taste; the taste of the adrenaline before a Decepticon attack.

_Decepticon attack. _

She grabbed Sam's head as he attempted to straighten her clothes as best he could in their limited space. "There's a Decepticon out there, isn't there?" she hissed.

Painful regret flooded his gaze, his jaw working tightly as he clenched and unclenched the muscles. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I tried to get you out without getting you involved." He pried her hands away from his head, darting up to look out the back window only to dart back down and lock sights with her again. "When I tell you to run, _run_. Don't stop no matter what you see or hear-."

"But-."

He shushed her. "-You remember the drill, right?"

"I remember…" but she didn't want to remember! She didn't want to go through the whole running-for-your-life shit again! That part of her life was supposed to be over!

He pressed his lips to her forehead in a desperate kiss. A goodbye kiss. "I'll protect you, I swear."

A deep growl shivered through the air, announcing that the Decepticon had finally caught on to their little waiting game and was not amused by it. As a tangible threat suddenly soaked the air, Sam's dark eyes hardened, jaw firming. He was all soldier now. Spine rigid, he shifted to regain his place in the driver's seat. Mikaela drew her splayed limbs to herself, dragging her body to the passenger's side door. She remembered the drill too well, as if engrained in her blood. Her hand wrapped around the door handle, steeling herself for the moment she had to bolt. Sam's hand rose to the ignition, gaze darting to the dark spectre taking up the rear view mirror.

"Ready?" he growled, so tense that Mikaela could see a muscle ticking in his jaw.

She gave a sharp nod, hand tightening on the hot metal of the handle.

He released a sharp jet of air through his nose. "Alright... **GO**!"

At the sound of his roar, her blood felt as if it exploded in her veins. The door flung open, her body thrown out by its own momentum; she hit the gravel hard, stumbled for her footing, and then took off like a shot. A snarl rose from her old Ford as Sam wrenched the engine to life, revving it like a monster. She didn't dare look behind her, for fear of her own life. She ran. Ran for her life.

The unforgettable melody of Cybertronian transformation rent the air, a scream of alien cursing making her ears ring. It was underscored by engine of the Ford; as old as it was, its engine had taken on a new, fiercer growl today. It was an angry truck. And as well as she knew every bump, knick, and scratch in the old jalopy, she heard the moment the gears shifted, knowing exactly which one was selected.

A tightness took hold of her as she realized what was to happen next.

Wheels screeched across the sun-faded asphalt as several hundred pounds worth of metal screamed into reverse. There was no time for the Decepticon to react, or else it was so in shock to see such an antiquated piece of junk fly at it that it couldn't move. Whatever the case, Sam rammed into the 'Cons knees with the ass of the Ford, throwing the robot to the pavement. By the deafening screech of impact, the bed of her truck was gone. Tremors from the resulting shockwave shivered up her feet, causing her blood to quicken as she threw her body forward.

'_Don't look back! Don't look back! Don't look back!' _

Another scream of tearing metal made her skin crawl as Sam continued to press his attack. Wheels spun on air until they caught on flailing armour, sparks flying as the undercarriage ripped over the Decepticon's front. She knew the moment the muffler was ripped off, cringing as the unhindered roar of her painstakingly rebuilt internal combustion engine was unleashed. Her hands clapped over her ears when the most unearthly wail followed it- more Cybertronian cursing, garbled as its face was run over.

Without warning, an explosion rocked the ground, announcing the death of the Ford. Inevitably, the death of Sam. A scream shot passed her lips as the concussion wave struck her back, throwing her to the ground hard. Her palms took her full weight against the rough tear of the pavement, gravel driven into the instantly bloody gouges. The bite of pain wasn't just ignored, but completely unfelt as adrenaline put her on a heart-shattering high. Her whole body felt energized and yet completely numb. She felt as if the world had taken on a deadly new vividness, though it felt strangely as if being viewed from a distance. She knew only to _run_.

By some sixth-sense, she dove for the dirt before a flying tire cut her in half.

Disorientation shook her for a mere second as sun-baked sand burnt her front, dirt blinding her from the wild dive. The sky and the ground were a wild blur in hr stinging eyes as she clawed to clear them. Automatic tears welled to clean the dirt, spilling in excess down her cheeks out of abject fear and for the loss of her beloved Ford, who now rained down in a half-mile radius is shattered smoking pieces. She didn't dare glance at anything for fear of seeing something wet and red amongst it all. This was no time to cry, though. The moment her eyes were clear, she sucked in a heavy breath, steeling herself to bolt again. Sam didn't have to die in vain!

Two wild blasts to her right had her heart jumping out of her chest, her lungs seizing in her chest as if caught in vices. _'Fuck it, woman! MOVE! You never froze up like this before! Get the fuck up and RUN!' _

One more plasma blast cratered the road to her left, spending her sprawling through the air. This time, she landed on her feet, skidding just short of the metallic flail that carved the earth mere feet in front of her. Over alien swearing and the roar of rushing blood in her ears, she heard a new snarl, one that made her heart soar-

"Goddamn it, Mikaela! Fucking run!"

It didn't matter that he sounded pissed as hell at her for being 16 years out of practise with running for her life, she darted a desperate look over her shoulder to assure herself that Sam was alive. If it turned out to be some kind of sick trick by the Decepticon, she'd die on the spot. A wash of relief flooded her as she saw a familiar human shape dart around the Con's feet. He was in one piece, which was more than what her Ford could say. From his back pocket, Sam suddenly wrenched out a very large Cybertronian-constructed gun, firing it several times into the lower section of the robot's torso.

After doing a double take of the smoking weapon and the small size of the pocket it came from, Mikaela determined that the pants _had_ to have some kind of subspace pocket installed. If all the Autobots had them, why not their human allies, too? Her compliments to the tailor.

It was her own fault when he eyes darted up to the Decepticon's faceplate. She didn't mean to, it just happened. Her eyes locked on merciless red optics, and blood-red murder suddenly turned its full attention on her. Recognition flashed across its metal features, a jagged mouth pulling back into a ravaged snarl.

'_No fucking way…' _

On the day she had been introduced to life beyond Earth, she had been met with the horrifying vision of a metal monster tearing its way through a parking lot. It was a vision she was met with once again.

'_Barricade.'_

"You little human bitch!" Apparently, he wasn't happy to see her again, either.

What came from her own mouth was a little less coherent, more like a wild scream as she bolted around and took off faster than she had before.

The first time she had met Barricade, Bumblebee had been there to save her and Sam's asses. This time, the little yellow Camaro was nowhere in sight. Reverberations in the ground announced Barricade giving chase, but a smaller roar echoed over the giant footsteps, Sam suddenly letting loose a new barrage along Barricade's lower back. Whatever kind of weapon he was wielding, it was highly effective; one blast clipped an open slate in the armour, wrenching it back. While not life-threatening in any way, it was still enough of an annoyance for Barricade to cease his almost-chase of Mikaela. The mech's attention was better kept on the human he had been hunting, the one who currently had the slagging gun.

"That's right, you overgrown junk heap! I'm the one you want!" A searing curse burned passed Sam's lips as Barricade's flail twisted his way. Throwing up his right arm as a useless shield, the momentum of the attack ended up throwing him several feet into the air, where he was caught by Barricade's unforgiving hand. Disorientated by the impact, and jarred by the crushing power of the Decepticon's hand tightening around his frame, Sam's weapon dropped from his grasp. Huge chunks of faux-flesh of his right arm were gouged out, the fire of torn neural wires making it as painful as if he'd been torn to the bone. He spat a spray of blood across the cage of metal that held him fast.

"Long time no see, Barricade," he snarled, resisting the urge to cry out as the hand tightened around him. A searing pain in his left shoulder told him the bone had popped out of the socket. In defiance to the enemy, Sam refused to show pain.

"_Maggot." _Blazing red optics focused on him, flashing. The undeniable glare penetrating right to his core left Sam as charred as he usually was when under a Decepticon's gaze, though now felt particularly more potent when no hope of rescue was in sight.

"I guess you haven't forgotten me yet, huh?"

"You have been a thorn in the Decepticons' side for long enough, you little sack of carbon-puss," Barricade snarled, the sound of a dozen failed assassination attempts colouring his voice. "I'm going to enjoy smearing your pathetic little body into the road. I'll make sure there's nothing left but a red smear for the worms to roll in."

Sam grimaced at the pleasant imagery now blooming in his mind's eye. When it came to creative deaths, the Decepticons sure did take the monopoly. As was his custom when dealing with the scum of the universe, he attempted to spit out a snappy retort that would probably end his life a few seconds sooner than what he would have liked. Seeing what was to come, Barricade jerked his grip, crushing the last reserve of air from the human's lungs. The resulting noise that issued from Sam's mouth was an interesting pitch of screaming-in-pain and breathless swearing. Barricade obviously took more than a little pleasure in silencing the little pest.

"What? No snappy comebacks, human?"

Spitting on someone probably didn't count as a snappy comeback, but Sam attempted it anyways, only to find that he couldn't summon enough air to propel the insult. A hot dribble of spittle mixed with blood trailed down his chin instead. Barricade regarded the red stain making its way down his prisoner's face with an air of disgusted amusement.

"You are one plague this universe won't miss-!"

A burning charge of plasma suddenly overtook his vision. The high heat yield of the weapon instantly melted the lens of his unprotected optic, the other fizzling to black from shock. Several more rounds struck him, one blasting a spike from the top of his head, two to his chest, and the rest aimed at his knees until they gave out. Throwing Sam away in order to catch himself, Barricade had the satisfaction of hearing the little maggot cry out as he hit the ground several yards away. Even with the effort of his hands thrown out to catch himself, the Decepticon was still blinded for the moment. Hitting the asphalt at the wrong angle, his arms shot out from beneath him, head crashing to the ground. The resounding impact jarred his remaining optic back online, giving him the briefest glance of the human female's backside as she ran for Sam's body.

"Sam! Sam, are you alright?!" She skidded across the gravel, unintentionally throwing a layer of dust across the unmoving man she was trying to check. "God, Sam, are you even alive?!" She reached out to roll him over, only to remember she was still clutching the plasma rifle he'd dropped. Throwing it to the side, she quickly dragged him onto his back, cringing at what came into light. A myriad of blood and dirt bloomed across his torn shirt, mixed with her own blood as she tried to treat him with her own torn hands. "Fuck, please don't be dead!"

Forgetting about Barricade, she pressed her ears to his chest, then to his mouth, trying in vain to find a pulse of breath of air- _anything_ that would mean life! Her heartbeat was rampaging too loudly in her ears to pick up his pulse, and the hot desert air sapped any motion of breath before she could feel it. If his appearance was anything to go by, she probably hit him with one of the wild blasts she was throwing at Barricade. It wasn't exactly like she was aiming! Dammit, if she accidentally killed him-!

A creak from not far behind announced that Barricade was back in the game, and pissed beyond belief.

"You are going to pay for that," the 'Con snarled, shoving himself up. Pain receptors in his faceplate were shut off, but that didn't stop him from looking like a monster now. Not only had his optic been burned out of its socket, but a good chuck of the metal in his face was blistered beyond recognition. Energon from destroyed lines oozed freely, running in channels over the metal, into his mouthplates, down his front, finally spattering along the ground were it sizzled and writhed. His only reward for enduring such damages was the keening scream he won from the female as he reached for her. The terror in her wet, organic eyes was delicious.

She couldn't name the force that had made her turn back for Sam. It had been an urge as primal as the need for air. Even if Sam had sacrificed himself to allow her to run to safety, there had been no stopping her body as it turned on its own accord and started rushing back into the thick of things. Long suppressed memories of battles came rushing back, even clearer than memories of running. When her hands closed around the smoking gun Sam had tossed aside, she'd known exactly how to wield it. Pulling the trigger was almost like welcoming back an old friend. But now… now she could even sum up the energy to move.

With Barricade's hand reaching for her, she could do nothing but watch death come and curse at her own immense stupidity. That last assault on the Decepticon had drained her of her last reserves. There was no more adrenaline left in her body to pump; her muscles burned, seized under extreme distress and exhaustion. The only thing left for her was to scramble along the ground like the insect Barricade thought she was. Brittle arms shoved the heavy weight of her body back, never managing to escape from her fate, only making her inevitably quick death come a little slower. Useless handfuls of dust were thrown at the encroaching hand as it loomed closer. Maybe it was just her imagination twisted by terror, but as Barricade's claws drew near, they seemed a thousand times longer and sharper than the last time she'd seem them so close.

Stars burst in front of her eyes as her hand slipped on Sam's shirt, sending the back of her head crashing to the ground. The headache already throbbing between her eyes from her earlier incident with the table only doubled, _tripled_, with this new assault. A jerk underneath her hand caused a breathless gasp to escape her scratching, drying throat as Sam suddenly jerked back into consciousness. She saw a flash of his scowling face before he launched himself over her, right arm reaching for his gun. There was no sign of pain as his dislocated shoulder was abused in the rough landing, left arm scraping beneath him. The barrel levelled itself next to Mikaela's head, her hair singeing with the heat vomiting from the muzzle. Damn, the plasma discharges were as loud as they were hot.

Barricade attempted to evade, the first two shots missing their target, only to have the third explode on his left hip. Damages already wrought on his knees in thanks to Mikaela's efforts made the new injury more dire. With a snarl, he went to his knees. At the end of his patience with human he'd hunted for far too long, his arm transformed into a missile launcher.

"_Fuuuuuck! Fuck!" _Sam's sharp epithets were nothing compared to the strength he put behind hauling Mikaela around and trying to shove her into running. Her muscles had taken on an atrophied feeling, weak and jelly-like now, her grip on his singed shirt being the only thing keeping her up. He howled for her to run, only to find his voice lost in the new cacophony of noise splitting the air. Not the scream of a plasma cannon, not the groan of a charging missile launcher, not even the screech of Cybertronian speech.

"What the hell is that?!" Mikaela screamed, desperate eyes wrenched to Sam's sweat-slicked grim face.

It grew closer, rattling the air itself; the whine of high-performance engines and a flock of entities cutting through the air at supersonic speeds. As if caught in slow motion, Sam's gaze tilted back to take in the vastness of the sky. In almost a perfect mirror to his own movement, Barricade's gaze went skyward as well. Squinting against the blaze of the sun, horrors in the form of several sleek, shadowed shapes materialized. Five shot overhead, too low to the ground to be anything from Earth.

"Jets?!" Mikaela screamed.

"_Seekers."_ Sam confirmed.

The flock of five circled back around, even lower than before. One came so low that his slipstream threw a tidal wave of dust into Barricade's faceplate, forcing him to bring up an arm against the minor attack. Something flashed across the mech's faceplate as he got a good look at the bellies if the jets circling the sky like vultures. These were big jets. Angry jets. They were a deafening roar of rage as they continued to pass overhead, each time coming closer and closer to clipping Barricade's head off.

Mikaela's breath hitched as she tracked the flock coming in for another dangerous pass. She wanted to reach out to take Sam's hand, but his right was white-knuckled on his gun while his left was curled tightly to his chest to offset the agony of his dislocated shoulder. Her fist tightened in his shirt, ignoring the bite of gravel driving into her bloody palms. A soft, unheard sob passed her lips as the lead jet, a serpentine silver creation, took the lowest dive yet, nearly decapitating Barricade. What kind of sick game were these Decepticons playing? Why couldn't they just fire on them and get it over with?

Miraculously, whatever silent battle was being waged between the single ground-bound Decepticon and the ever-closer Seekers was finally ended with Barricade transforming. The screech of shorn metal against jagged armour made every hair on the humans' bodies stand up. His alt mode was worse for wear now, gouges along the siding revealing where plasma discharges had struck, and the metal of his backend was twisted awkwardly. Pulling a diamond-sharp u-turn, he took off down the remains of the highway at a speed that was probably slow for him but several times faster than any Earth car could go. After two false starts with his holographic projectors, he eventually managed to fade from sight completely like a kicked dog slicking off with his tail between his legs.

Blood trickled down from the half-moon nail marks biting into her arms where Mikaela clutched herself. Seekers… Seekers… She remembered them. Remembered how deadly they were in combat; enough to make even bots on their own side back down. And now it was just her and Sam against them. Correction, it was really just Sam against them. He was the one with the gun. She stumbled back a step as Sam pressed his shoulder to her, urging her to get behind him in a useless show of protection.

Upon the flock's last turn, the leading silver jet transformed, his momentum carrying him over the dry earth until he loomed a mere 10 feet away. In quick succession, his fellow wingmates transformed and took appropriate positions behind their leader- Mikaela did her best resisting the urge to compare their formation to the arrow-shape that geese flew in. Strangely enough, even if they loomed dangerously close, none of them made a move to squish the humans. Some shifted anxiously, one of them stretching to the tips of his struts to peer in the direction Barricade went, picking up the faint dust cloud the invisible Decepticon was leaving behind. If anything was to be said about the five Seekers, they looked as if they didn't quite know what they were supposed to do, which was about as un-Decepticon as anyone could get.

Curiously, the head of the flock appeared to be intensely interested in Sam, staring at him with the single-minded purpose that only a machine seemed capable of. Sam glared back unblinkingly, much like a defiant mouse caught in a viper's stare. The Seeker said nothing, neither in Cybertronian no English. It was impossible to tell by his body language whether or not he meant to kill them right away or make them suffer for a little while.

Mikaela raked her gaze over the bots, wracking her brain to remember what Starscream looked like, hoping to god he wasn't one of them. It had been too long, and so many of the Cybertronians ended up looking alike when they had the same alt mode. Starscream wasn't silver, from what she could remember. The body shape was similar, though; triangular frame with long arms and digigrade legs ending in small, clawed feet. Reddened eyes fought to see the head, which easily rose over 35 feet above her- it was a streamlined gathering of metal, the features softer than what she would expect from a Decepticon. One of the fellow jets shifted, allowing for a shadow to cross the silver leader's faceplate, his optics glinting. _Blue_ light shone from them. Swallowing her heart as it leapt once more into her throat, Mikaela did a double-take of the unblinking optics watching them. Indeed, they were still blue no matter how long she stared at them. That was a good sign, right?

In almost that exact moment, a flash of recognition crossed Sam's hardened face, easing his features into a disbelieving grin. Previous tension trembling through his frame like an electric current drained out, and with it went his remaining reserves of strength. Even his mechanical arm went slack, gun dangling benignly from his fingers. The sudden movement drew Mikaela's eye to the limb briefly, her stomach churning. Large chunks of imitation flesh had been shorn away, leaving mechanics beneath exposed. Something dull-green oozed out with consistency of snot, which she could only guess was some kind of lubricant. She covered her mouth so as not to vomit as she watched the little twitches and jerks of tiny exposed parts, thinking they looked too much like squirming muscle. Sam largely ignored the pain and exposure of his internals, accustomed to see what made the inside of his alien arm tick. Instead, he stepped forward, craning his neck in order to glare upwards.

"Is it safe?" Mikaela murmured, torn between the need attempt outrunning the metal behemoths and taking of Sam's slack gun to fire on them. Even if the flock happened to have blue optics, it meant nothing to their safety. _Frenzy_ had had blue optics.

"It's alright," Sam rasped hoarsely, offering a neutral look over his shoulder.

"How can you be sure?"

He turned his head back to face the silver jet. "We're not dead yet, are we?"

A groan of moving metal above them announced that one of the jets were finally making a move, the leader gracefully coming down to kneel before them. He still towered over them like a monster, though his lowered stature gave the humans a view of what they had been missing before; a small, red Autobot insignia engraved into the armour at the base of the mech's neck.

"It is an honour to finally meet you in person, Ambassador Witwicky," intoned the silver giant, the formality of his conveyance embellished by the fluid bow he added to the end.

Sam grinned even further as his suspicions were confirmed by the sound of the mech's voice. "Silverbolt, I hardly recognized you in your Earth getup!" He offered his own bow, turned stiff by developing bruises along his sides. "Please, I've told you before, call me Sam. You know how I hate formalities."

Silverbolt revved lightly, glancing back to his fellow fliers with a veiled smile. "My apologies, Ambassador- ah, _Sam_."

Sam shrugged him off as best he could with two damaged arms. "Don't apologize. You just saved our asses- that makes you my best friend right now."

With such a light-hearted address by such an important alien figure, Silverbolt looked rather flattered. "It was rather lucky we were in the airspace or else there's no telling what that Decepticon might have done." He paused, obviously scanning the area. "Bumblebee is your partner, is he not? Shouldn't he have been here?" Another pause, this time the mech's gaze landing on the scattered remains of the Ford. "Oh Primus… he hasn't been destroyed, has he?"

"No. God no, Bumblebee's fine," Sam assured, becoming more and more like his charming self rather than his soldier alter-ego as the banter progressed. "Bluestreak was accompanying me this time; we split up in hopes of drawing enemy attention to him to allow me to escort my friend home. As you can see, the plan fell through."

The five aerial Autobots visibly relaxed with the news that they had not been too late to save one of their own. Silverbolt nodded slowly, optics roving between Sam to Mikaela and back again. "Yes, well, again, you were lucky we were in the airspace and picked up the Decepticon signature. Not meaning any disrespect to your own capabilities, sir, but I doubt we would have been able to meet in person if we had not come when we did."

"No offense taken. I know my species' limitations," Sam replied. Sure, he knew the limitations- that didn't mean he always acknowledged them in battle.

One of the fellow jets, a rusty-red bot, suddenly spoke- "You _did_ manage to inflict some impressive damages before our arrival, though. Very impressive for your species."

"Not impressive enough," Sam sighed, grimacing when he tried to shrug again. "To be perfectly honest, I thought you were Seekers coming along to finish off the job. I wasn't even aware that your team had been cleared for planet fall yet. From our prior transmissions, I thought you weren't cleared until next week."

Silverbolt made an electronic noise, canting his head. "No, no, my English is still a little rough- I meant _today_ when I said we were cleared for landing. We came in this morning and were just testing out our new wings. Sorry for any distress we might have caused coming in like we did; I realize my Aerialbots and I hold a striking resemblance to Decepticon Seekers…" One of the Aerialbots snorted distastefully, only to be whacked by his brother. Silverbolt continued as if nothing had happened. "You yourself look rather different in person, if that's any consolation. It took a moment to identify you."

"Yes, well, I've been told that we humans look remarkably alike. Some Autobots have a little trouble telling us apart at first-."

They sounded so goddamned _normal_ speaking with one another. It was after they hadn't been fighting for their lives just minutes before.

Mikaela couldn't stop the small exclamation of relief that left her mouth as it finally settled in that she was _safe_. It sounded very much like a choked sob, catching Sam's attention, and then the attentions of the Autobots. Not that she was really concerned with them staring. The relief was so deep it swept her breath from her lungs and rendered her bones to the consistency of pudding. Hot bile shot up her throat, exiting her mouth in a spray of burning, stinking vomit.

"Mikaela!"

Sam was immediately at her side, though he could do very little with both his arms largely incapacitated. His presence alone was enough, though. That's all she wanted to feel- the solid, warm sensation of protection that he exuded. He was alive, she was alive, and they were no longer in danger. Her stomach heaved once more, bringing up the last remains of adrenaline, fear, intermingled with her breakfast.

Silverbolt moved closer worried, curling over them in a way that left them rendered in his shadow, protected from the blaze of the sun. "Your female… is she alright?"

"Yeah, she's just overwhelmed," Sam assured before returning to murmuring soft words of comfort into her ear. It was plainly clear to everyone that the ambassador's concern for Mikaela's wellbeing took precedence over any other present matter.

After several last painful dry wretches, her body finally decided that it had drained itself of everything. Stress, tension, food, energy; every last drop of anything was now fully expelled in a glorious mess across the asphalt. Sam nudged her side, leaning as close as he dared. She panted raggedly, sweat dripping from the end of her nose. Her limbs shook, vision spotty, her entire being feeling wrung out.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yeah…" she coughed wretchedly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Salty trails of water came away with the spittle. When had she started crying? Couldn't she make herself stop? She must have looked like a horrid mess, covered in dirt, red, puffy eyes streaming tears, and perfumed by the acrid smell of a human who had recently puked. Pushing back to crouch on her heels, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her.

"Mikaela?" Sam intoned worried, shuffling closer.

"I…" Putting a hand to the side of her head to ward off the spell of light-headedness, she discovered she was falling backwards. By the time her back hit the ground, she was out cold.

Another Aerialbot crouched close, peering down worriedly. "Is she hurt?"

A long sigh trailed from Sam's mouth as he shook his head slowly. "No, just fainted. She'll be fine." He squinted up at the flock of Autobots. "Mind giving us a lift?"

* * *

When she next opened her eyes, Mikaela was hit with a dizzying sense of disorientation.

After the initial wave of consciousness whooshing into her head, she attempted to take stock of what the hell was going on. Last she remembered was puking. That was a start. Now she was laying down somewhere; it was soft, with the right mixture of warmth and coolness brushing her dry skin. It was a bed. At first she thought it was her own, but after a moment it became clear that the mattress wasn't lumpy enough to be hers, and the sheets smelled off. Not like her sheets, which smelled of Gloria's favourite washing detergent and the musk of her old loft; the sheets she found herself wrapped in now smelled of _Sam. _

'_Ah, so that's where I am.'_

Without a doubt, she was in Sam's house. In his room. Cocooned in his bed. Under normal circumstances, she rightfully would have been flipping out over finding herself waking up in an almost-stranger's bed with only a foggy recollection of how she got there. This, however, was not a normal circumstance. As innately as she knew she was in Sam's house, his bedroom, in his bed, Mikaela knew she was _safe_. She relaxed deeper into the embrace if the mattress, her sleep-softened mind revelling in how welcomed she felt between the sheets.

The last dregs of her brief disorientation faded, leaving her senses alert and curious. There would be no exploring for her until her head stopped throbbing and the room ceased wobbling; there was the possibility of a concussion, but she couldn't be sure. Little details started coming to her quicker. Someone had treated her wounds, the padding of bandages across her torn palms catching her attention. She didn't feel as dirty as she knew she should of, meaning someone had given her a wipe down a while ago.

Judging by the deepness of the twilight spilling into the room, it was undeniably deep into the night. Dawn was most likely hours away. To her left, a glass door glinted in the moonlight, leading to a lone balcony she could just barely make out from her angle. When a cool breeze kissed her cheek, she realized the balcony door was open, as were the tall windows lining the wall on either side. The angle she laid at didn't give her much of a view, other than of the velvet sky hanging overhead, so she couldn't see if anyone was out there. Judging by the unbroken spell of silence that laid over the house, there was not another living soul within the walls stirring, and least of all out on the balcony.

A brief yawn stretched her face, making her wince, and then cringe when the acrid taste of vomit came back to her. With her mind finally catching up with her, the day's events bloomed in her mind with too-vivid accuracy. Careful of herself, she lifted a hand to squint at it in the dark, able to make out dark splotches of blood where it had seeped through the padding. She remembered the day; running, falling, tripping, screaming, being terrified for her life.

An expansive sigh drifted from her as she let her hand fall back to the covers. Barricade had been a good reminder of why it was a bad idea to get too comfortable with Sam. Every moment she spent in his company was another moment spent sinking into more danger. That wasn't something she could do. Not 16 years ago, and not now. Not even for the man she… cared deeply for.

A soft snuffle to her right startled her. Turning her head, she caught the outline of a figure hunched next to the bed. Whoever it was, their feet were propped on the mattress and their rangy body was curled into a leather chair that had been dragged in from elsewhere. Still asleep, the man shifted in a mote of moonlight to reveal a mess of dark, curly hair and a handsome face Mikaela would know anywhere.

"Sam…"

He definitely looked worse for wear. His upper half was naked, revealing a patchwork of bandages and bruises across his torso. Someone had popped his dislocated shoulder back into place, the arm now curled to his chest protectively in a sling. Out of morbid curiosity, Mikaela's eyes drew to his right arm, steeling herself to see an alien equivalent of Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Terminator. Instead, the gloom revealed Sam's mechanical appendage had been treated with a new layer of "skin". Maybe it was just the half-light playing off it, but it was too pale to match the desert-tan of Sam's skin, and it had a rubbery look to it. Noting a shiny quality, Mikaela saw that some kind of plastic wrap had been placed overtop, probably to make sure the new skin settled properly.

Another soft noise murmured from him as he turned over, taking on an impossibly uncomfortable position. The chair obviously was not meant for sleeping in. In spite of his discomfort, Mikaela smiled at him. He had given her his bed to rest in. Sam could have put her anywhere- in a guest bed, on the couch, hell, he could have left her in the middle of his kitchen floor if he really wanted to. Instead, she was laying in the comfort of his bed while he sat hunched in a chair. Not even a blanket or pillow to offset the coolness of the night or the awkwardness of his chosen perch.

With a bit of effort, Mikaela managed to roll onto her front. There was a small urge to touch him, maybe trace the tops of the toes of the large feet curled into the top of the bedsheets, but she couldn't bring herself to disturbing him. Instead, she settled her chin on her folded arms and watched him. Who knew how long he'd been there, watching her sleep. Making sure she was okay. A part of her heart was warmed by the idea. If it had been anyone else watching her sleep, the whole situation would have been different, probably only to weird her out, but with Sam… He made the gesture mean so much more. Just like how he had gone out of his way to drive her home, to protect her from Barricade, just to make sure she was okay. That's what she really loved about him; he did so much for her, and yet seemingly never thought about himself.

She paused on that thought, lifting her head a little. What she really _loved_ about him. _Love. _

With a groan, her head dropped back to her arms, scrubbing her face back and forth against the bruise skin of her forearms. _'Mikaela Marie Banes, you are an idiot.' _Without meaning to, or even wanting to, she had damn well done the one thing she said would never happen again; she'd fallen in love. Worse yet, she had fallen in love with Sam Witwicky. Again. Just being friends with him had been enough to make it difficult to walk away. Loving him was going to hurt a hell of a lot more when it came to the day she walked away.

"Why do I do this to myself?" she whined, only to jump when a new voice echoed after her own.

"Mi- kaela?"

Gaze shooting up, Mikaela's eyes instantly tracked to Sam's, who stared back at her as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. A mere moment later, a wide, relieved smile spilt his face as he swung his legs off the bed and leaned forward. His right hand felt so odd as it came up to touch her cheek, the plastic covering it making the touch cool and synthetic, while the intention behind it was so reverent.

"You're awake," he breathed, his eyes tracking every detail of her face in spite of the shadows covering it.

"Yeah, I'm awake," she croaked, squinting at him cautiously.

He ignored the caution in her voice, pressing even closer. "How do you feel? Ratchet said nothing was broken, but you did end up getting beat up. You might have a concussion, as well-."

She shook her head, tilting her cheek away from his touch. "Sore, that's all," she assured.

"Sore, yeah, you and me both." Sam drew his hand away, realizing that his mechanical hand was probably the last thing she wanted to have touching her after being attacked by a death-dealing war machine only hours earlier. "You need anything? An Aspirin, maybe? Or a glass of water?"

"Water would be nice." She didn't even have time to lick her dry lips before Sam was up and darting to the far end of the room where a door was cleverly blended into the wall, sliding open as he approached to admit him into the attached bathroom. With a glass of water in hand, he was back to her side in less than a minute, holding out the water as she rolled carefully onto her back and sat up.

A short murmur was all she managed before the urge to sooth the burn in her throat became to much. The coolness of the water was a balm all the way down, washing away the taste of stale vomit in her mouth and relieving the dryness of her tongue and throat. In a few breathless gulps, the glass was empty.

"Thanks," she sighed, licking her lips for the last remains of water droplets. "I really needed that."

"I bet," Sam replied quietly, breathing a soft chuckle. "You want any more? You're probably dehydrated."

"I'm fine," Mikaela assured, leaning back against the headboard. With Sam now awake, watching her with the sharpness of a predator's gaze, she was having a hard time looking at him. Her eyes were incapable of rising from the dewy glass dripping between her hands. In the silvery moonlight, she could make out the damp circle the bottom of the glass was leaving in the sheet beneath it.

God, it was so awkward. Why couldn't Sam have stayed asleep? Damn him.

"Mickey…. I'm sorry about what happened today," he suddenly intoned. He sucked in a shaky breath, steadying himself. "I'm sorry for the whole weekend. I should have let you go home when you wanted to… I was selfish about making you stay. You never wanted to stay, but I kept making you, and now Barricade knows you've been with me and he's not going to stop until he hunts you down, too."

Mikaela cringed at the thought, her grasp tightening on her glass. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Sam's hand clenched and unclenched. If she bothered to look up into his face, she would have seen the look of a man truly anguished with what he had done.

"I just…" He stopped short, swallowing hard. What he almost said was 'I just wanted to feel human with you. You make me feel alive,' but decided that those words were woefully inadequate and more likely to piss her off than anything. "_I'm sorry_."

She was going to hate herself for saying it, but- "Don't be."

Sam paused, as if he didn't quite catch watch she'd said. When the silence stretched on for too long, Mikaela cleared her throat, finally summing up enough courage to look Sam in the eye.

"Don't be sorry," she repeated. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, so broken and bruised and yet so handsome it made her heart hurt for all the things she could never let herself have from him. "I could have left any day I wanted, but I didn't. I just couldn't say no… couldn't walk away- not from what you were offering. We were both selfish, I guess."

"But Barricade-."

"-Wasn't your fault. You couldn't help that, no one could," Mikaela said, cutting him off. She took a deep breath through her nose, feeling the air inside her lungs, clearing her head. "But what you did do, taking him on by yourself when it probably meant getting yourself killed… I want to say thank you for saving my life. _Thank you_." She dared to extend an arm, touching the sling holding up his left arm with her bandaged right hand.

"You weren't so bad yourself," he chuckled ruefully, staring down at the hand she'd offered him. "I saw you taking out his knees." Even in the dark, he could see the flush that made its way across her face.

"It was nothing," she mumbled, letting her hand fall back to the mattress.

"You saved my life, so it wasn't _nothing_. We're even in that department," Sam insisted warmly. "We made a great team." Before he could stop himself, he bent down to lay a kiss to her forehead, a light, chaste touch that more a bid goodnight than anything. Then he backed up, making his way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Mikaela called, staring at the broad plain of his naked back as he walked away. She noted three little stitches in his upper back where a rock had gouged out a small chuck of him.

"Just down the hall," he assured. "Guest room."

"But this is your bed," she said dumbly.

"And yet, you're in it," Sam pointed out, meaning that he intended to respect her space and leave her to rest for the night. It was the right thing to do for anyone who'd just been attacked by a giant alien robot, after all.

Again with the hating herself for what she was about to say, but- "There's enough room for two." Her brain just didn't seem able to stop her heart from speaking its mind tonight. Lord only knew, but her heart probably had quite a few things to say that she didn't want to hear.

When Sam turned to face her again, the look in his eyes was undeniably hopeful. "You sure?"

'_No. No, no, no, not sure. Not sure!' _"Yeah, come on over." She scooted to the side, leaving enough room to tempt Sam over with. Each step he took to the mattress was measured, hesitating at the edge before easing himself onto the soft cushion. Being in his own bed appeared to have a relaxing effect on him, or maybe it was because he was so near her, but every muscle in his body seemed to sag with a sudden release of tension.

"Thanks," he groaned, settling in against the softness of the pillow at his back. "This is the best bed in the house."

She nodded, turning over to snuggle onto her front, pillowing her face into the musky scent of her pillow. Sam slid onto his back, scooting around to get comfortable, careful of the stitches in his back and of his tender shoulder. Neither could shake how right it felt to lay together, even if a gap worth half of the bed lay between them, a pillow shoved there for good measure. They both so desperately wanted to say more to each other, to say something worth a smidgeon of what they felt, but each too scared of what the consequence might be if they said anything at all. They remained mute until their eyes drifted almost closed, the night wrapping even closer around them until it felt like a second skin breathing against them.

Not sure whether she was awake or not, Sam posed her name as a question, leaving it open for her to fake sleep if she didn't want to talk. "Mickey?"

More than anything, she wanted to stay silent. Through her lashes, she watched the glassy gleam of Sam's eyes as he stared at the ceiling. Her heart felt so tight in her chest. The longing to touch him was so strong that it resonated in every fibre of her being; she wanted to embrace the soldier who had saved her life, hold the heart who cared so deeply for her, wrap herself around the man who held her heart. The pillow that lay between them made the distance seem like a chasm. When he sighed, no doubt believing her asleep, she made a small noise, watching his head tip to the side to search the shadows for her face.

"Sam?"

His smile was wistful. "With everything that's happened, Barricade knowing you're with me- we'll figure it out, okay? Whatever it takes, I promise I will find some way for you to get away… to be safe."

"I trust you, Sam."

She trusted him with her life. The way Sam said those words… He really, truly meant it. God, she could hear it in his voice, he meant every word he said. It only made her heart long more for him, hurting even deeper when she reminded herself the only was to be safe was to stay away from him. Thankful for the night to hide her face, she blinked away a hot tear.

"That means a lot to me," he sighed, voice turning sleep-mumbled. "G'night."

She squeezed her eyes shut, finding everything hurt now- her bruises, her head, _her heart_. Morning couldn't come soon enough. "Goodnight."


	14. Chapter 14

There's a bit of French used in the chapter, and while I may be a Canadian living in the only officially bilingual province in the country, my French has long since faded from my days in high school. On top of that, I speak Quebec/Acadian French, not European/France French, so it was doubly difficult to write for the chapter. It's understandable enough, though, so you'll have to bear with me.^^;

I must say, I was deeply impressed by everyone who reviewed the last chapter and kept in mind my request for a review that held substance rather than an insulting demand for more. Like any writer, I spend days, sometimes weeks, perfecting my chapters, so it's of great reward when someone takes the time to repay the effort with a few moments to write a review to let me know what they liked. My deepest thanks to everyone! And since there were so many of you, I cannot simply answer your reviews individually, so a collective thanks will have to do.

My deepest and most sincere thanks to **leoshunny1985, impeccableblahs, LeeMeru, orangecountrycruiser2, Supermel Returns, LupisNoctis, Chickadeeestar02, Kashuchi, ilovenat1995, babybluemoongirl, Sutzina Zion, spedclass, theshadowcat, KindaLykDiffy, ibelieveintruelove, bigguy204, Dianchi, bazookawhat, kerrde06, GirlWaterShaman, Reaper85, RedneckGeek, Violetlight, Hi, FunkyFish1991, blondie2, Ahmose, redandblack 4eva, wickle, MeakoXIII, Koolman, sofaki, AsakuraX, OnceAWildcatAlwaysAWildcat, Silveriss, pilateschick, Bluebird Soaring, SonicH2O, howdoyousleep, FntsyDncr3168, Nienna Tinehtel, Caz, Owl Emporium, Lecidre, abileabi, Joan, , Heir Head, , Rip king of pop**, and **Lucas4everPeyton**.

Please read, review, and enjoy! :)

**Chapter 14**

"_Mon dieu_, do mine eyes deceive me? What sweet gift from heaven are you, _ma belle fleur?_"

A sleepy giggle tickled through her nose as she listened to the funny voice murmur a concoction of sweet nothings. This was perhaps one of the strangest dreams she had ever had, discounting her nightmares of household appliances transforming and chasing her around the house. Wherever she was, it was dark, but not in an uninviting sort of way. It was a warm semi-darkness overlaid with a strange red glow illuminating nothing. It felt as if heat had been transformed into light, and where the red glow caressed, she felt languid, content. She breathed in deeply and found Sam's scent lingering all around her, running through her head with a pleasant buzz that left her breathless. The embrace of sleep made her limbs heavy, her mind at ease; she felt the ache in her bruised body, but was not pained by it.

And then there was that voice. It was a voice she had never heard before, and was convinced it was a voice no human was capable of having. While much of it was a deep candescence that flowed like warm molasses, the words were interspersed with _noises_- reptilian growls and clicks, sometimes a hiss elongating a strong 's' in a word. Stranger yet was the fact that the speaker, whomever it might have been, spoke an odd melody of French and English. Not that she minded the multi-lingual declarations of her beauty, but it came as a surprise that she knew French so well subconsciously for it to show up flawlessly in a dream.

"Such perfection, you are. Your lips are like the petals of a flower, your hair like sable locks of silk-."

Oh, that sweet, curious dream-voice carried on with such a reverent enthusiasm. A girl could get used to dreaming of something as sweet as this, even if something sighed within her, wishing for the voice to be Sam's instead of this dreamscape concoction. Sam's voice was so much more attractive- not as deep, but so smooth, so sincere.

A cool touch to her forehead had her brow wrinkling. Whatever it was, it was smooth, but not flesh. Not metal, either.

"No, no, _ma petite ange_, don't look so disturbed. You are so sweet, it pains me to see your beautiful face frown. Let me see you smile."

She couldn't help offering another softly giggled sigh as a new touch brushed across her brow, down her cheek. There was such reverence, such worship. Still not flesh, nor metal, but it was oddly familiar. A texture she couldn't quite place. Not fur, nor feather…

'_Curiouser and curiouser,' _she thought. This was a dream, after all. Mild confusion was generally expected in things such as these. Maybe whatever was serenading her with praises was a handsome dream creature she'd imagined for her own subconscious pleasure, or perhaps he was a dream-ghost invisible to her in this odd dark cocoon of a dreamland. The mere idea made her smile again, which delighted her company to no end.

But then her little world trembled ever so slightly. Not like she could see it through the red-hued gloom, but she _felt_ it. A shift in the soft materials that encased her skin, the cushion of darkness beneath her body bouncing as another great weight rolled. Cutting through her romancer's spiel about her honeyed skin and eyelashes like a raven's wing, a sleepy groan reached her ears. Sam's groan. And it was not at all far away.

And suddenly the very cold weight of reality sinking in hit her full force. She wasn't dreaming at all. Her skin prickled with the realization that she was awake. Her eyes were closed, and it was obviously morning if the warm red glow behind her eyelids was anything to go by. She was lying in the same bed she'd been laying in last night, soft sheets tangled between her limbs. To her left was Sam. His weight, his heat, his breathing; it was all so very close.

But that left one screaming question: _who the hell was on her other side?_

Now with the powerful rhythm of her pulse racing in her ears, she no longer could hear the mystery man's voice. Clenching her sore fists into the bedsheets, she counted down from three to open her eyes and take in the threat.

'_3…2…1!' _

"Ah, _bonjour, ma belle fleur_! I see you are awake!"

It took a moment to focus on the figure laying mere inches from her face, a wall of green slowly clarifying. Blinking once to make sure what she was seeing wasn't just a figment of her imagination, it was quickly confirmed that was she was seeing as a wall of _scales_. Smooth, green, reptile scales. And those scales had undoubtedly been caressing her face for the last half hour.

Eyes widening as horror set in, Mikaela belatedly realized the scaly green snout inches from her face was attached to a giant six-foot-long _iguana_. It stared back at her with oil-black eyes, head cocked ever so slightly to the right. With a lizard-like smile, it opened its mouth and-

"Yes, that's right, here I am. How about a good morning kiss for sweet Jean Luc Picard?"

A high-pitched scream of utterly embarrassing female terror instantly cut the air.

Sam bolted up, ready for a fight. "What's going- _Urgh_!" He doubled over in pain as Mikaela's elbow drove into his bruised ribs as she flailed to get away. As his head went down, he got a swipe across the cheek by a wild hand. He cried out again, but no apology came. His legs got trampled as Mikaela scrambled over him.

"Oh please, sweet lady, don't go yet!" the iguana pleaded, crawling after her.

Mikaela gave a violated cry as she felt curved claws scrape at her ankle. She overbalanced on the edge of the mattress, her uncontrolled momentum throwing her over the edge. Thankfully, the bed was not high from the ground, which was little consolation as she hit the hardwood floor and took most of the bedsheets with her.

After a moment of extreme disorientation, Sam finally got his bearings and zeroed in on the intruder.

"FLUFFY!"

With almost violent intention, he lashed out with his mechanical arm and captured the behemoth iguana before it could escape. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?!"

"I have told you, my name is _Jean Luc Picard_!" Fluffy hissed, writhing madly in attempts to get away. "Perceptor asked that I summon you to have your arm completed this morning, you ungrateful mammal!"

Hefting the six-foot reptile under his arm, Sam leapt from the bed and marched for the door. "I'll show you _ungrateful_, you scaly womanizer!"

"Unhand me, you American swine! _Cochon! _I am an esteemed ambassador to France!" Fluffy yelled, his cursing demands ringing off the walls.

"Nooooo, you're an iguana from a pet shop in Jersey!" Sam shouted, wrenching the iguana off the doorframe when it tried to sink its claws. Reptilian hissing and the sound of a long tail whipping off the walls followed the pair all the way down to the first floor.

Mikaela remained on the floor where she'd fallen, too shocked to even bother untangling herself from the sheets. She had no idea how long she sat unmoving on the floor, the digital clock being on the other side of the bed. After the initial burst of adrenaline that propelled her over the bed, her body felt paralyzed. No matter how many times she ran through the scenario that just happened, none of it made sense. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was reminded that when being anywhere near the transformers, it was best to expect the unexpected, but whatever just happened might be pushing it a little.

Eventually, Sam returned, a little out of breath from his struggle with Fluffy. By the sounds of his approach, he was alone. Each padded footstep sounded like a gunshot in Mikaela's head until his sweatpants-clad legs appeared around the side of the bed, coming within a few feet of her before crouching. He scooted closer like that, much like one would approach a skittish animal- inch by cautious inch. His touch, instead of making her jump, had the curious sensation of soothing her right down to her toes. It snapped her out of her catatonia, at least.

"That… lizard… spoke to me."

Sam made a soft noise like a cross between a sigh and a laugh. "Yeah… I can explain that." His hand slid from her cheek to her arm, easing her up by her elbow to sit on the bed. Mikaela didn't even bother to fight the gentle guidance, even leaning against Sam when he came to sit next to her.

"Was it another kind of alien species?" she asked quietly.

"Nope, nothing like that. Fluffy is a one hundred percent Earth-bred iguana," Sam informed, shaking his head. "He used to be Annabelle's pet, but Perceptor got a hold of him one day, and well- _poof_- suddenly Fluffy was twice his normal size and speaking English. Annabelle didn't mind so much, but Will put his foot down about having talking iguana in the house. Perceptor uses him now as a lab assistant now, but God only knows how useful he is."

She giggled a little. "And how does the whole Casanova routine help with scientific research?"

"Oh, that?" Sam chuckled, recalling the particularly funny memory of how that came about. "That would be Sideswipe's doing. There's a little chip in Fluffy's brain that retains his language subroutines and personality files. Sideswipe decided it would be funny to mess with all that- for a week straight, we had to keep Fluffy quarantined 'cause he kept coming on to all the female personnel on base. Perceptor managed to fix most of the damage, but, as you can see, some quirks were left behind."

"Perceptor sure sounds like the mad scientist type," Mikaela said lowly.

"Yeah, he's got a track record a mile long of the things he's done, but you should see when Wheeljack gets on a roll. Now _there's_ some mad science for you." There was a momentary pause, and then Sam nudged her in the arm. "You feeling better now?"

"You mean, have I recovered from being accosted by a talking mutant iguana? Or do you mean do I feel better in general?" she asked, holding her hands up to display how misshapen her spotty bandages had become. Everything felt stiff, sore, as if she'd been hit by a car, which wasn't exactly far from the truth.

Sam caught a hand and kissed the tip of an exposed finger. "Both," he said.

Mikaela bit her bottom lip, wanting to grin and blush at him for being such a sweetheart, but knew better. "For the Fluffy thing… still feeling a little violated, but otherwise fine. Definitely wasn't expecting it…"

"You'll get used to him, I swear." He said it as if she were staying awhile. Mikaela chose not to read too much into the sentence.

"As for me in general, I'm sore, hungry, and desperately in need of a shower."

"Not tired?" he enquired curiously.

"Apart the rude awakening, I had a really good sleep," she admitted softly. "Your bed's really comfortable." As soon as she said the words, she wished she hadn't. The look that came into Sam's eyes was hopeful, as if a comfortable bed was enough to make her come back for more. It was too late to take it back, so she pushed to her feet and took a couple steps away from him. The distance felt better.

Sam cleared his throat, pushing to his feet as well. "You're welcome to crash on my mattress anytime," he offered, trying to be nonchalant about it. It was easy to tell he wanted to crash on his mattress for the rest of forever. "In the meantime, I've got a couple remedies for everything else- there's some pain meds in the bathroom, and you can take a shower while you're at it. Breakfast is almost ready downstairs, but you might want to hurry before it's gone."

She paused halfway to the hidden door in the wall. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone's already down there waiting, and I wouldn't put passed any of them to eat our share of the food if we keep them waiting too long," Sam informed. He couldn't count the number of time he had wandered downstairs in the morning, or wandered over to whosever kitchen breakfast was being served in, only to discover his plate licked clean. Didn't matter how many times he saved the world, if he wasn't fast enough for breakfast, he wasn't getting any.

Mikaela's eyes lit up. "Will and the others are downstairs?"

"Could there be anyone else?" Sam asked, a grin splitting his face as he absorbed Mikaela's newfound excitement. "They saw you last night, but, as you can understand, it wasn't much of a reunion. They're really looking forward to seeing you this morning."

She gave a girlish squeal, about to clap her hands together, only to remember that it was probably more trouble than it was worth. "I'll hurry in the shower!" She dashed into the black and white tiled bathroom practically dancing on air, suddenly feeling exhilarated to see her old friends. It was strange how eager she was to see Will and Epps and whoever else was there when Sam had been met with nothing but reluctance.

In her haste, she forgot about her hands as she moved to throw off the plain white t-shirt that had been lent to her while she was unconscious. _"Ah-! Ow…_" Her raw palms against the bandages felt like sandpaper scraping nerves. Worse yet was the discovery that everything from her muscles to bone marrow felt like big black bruises, heavy as lead and painful to move. Standing for a moment to contemplate her situation, she yielded to the inevitable.

"_Saaaaaammmmmmmm." _

The door opened instantly as if he had been standing on the other side expecting her.

"Yeeessssss?" By the smug sound of his voice, he _had_ been expecting her.

"Don't look at me like that, just help me get undressed," she grumbled, glowering at her useless hands.

"It would be my pleasure," he replied, trotting into the bathroom with a jaunty skip to his step.

"Don't enjoy yourself _too_ much," she warned, lips pursed stubbornly. It was one thing to let him undress her when they were having sex, but having to undress her because she couldn't was just plain humiliating.

"Don't worry, I'm a professional," he stated mock-seriously, which ended up making her want to walk into the shower with her clothes on so he'd go away. He gave a few experimental one-handed tugs to her hem, quickly deciding that removing the article of clothing was a two-handed job. He shrugged his other arm out of its sling to assist.

"You okay to do that?" Mikaela asked cautiously, noting how weakly he held the limb.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've gone against doctor's orders," Sam assured her, shaking lingering tension out of his damaged shoulder. She didn't miss his grimace, but for his sake, said nothing. With the happily determined air of a man granted the privilege of stripping a good looking woman, he applied himself to his task. It was harder than it looked. "Maybe if you bent forward, I could slide it off without making you raise your arms…"

"Yeah, okay, I'll try." Sucking in a breath, she bent forward. It didn't so much as hurt as it was testing stiff muscles. Thankfully, her shirt slid over her with very little resistance. With her head stuck in the collar and her arms caught in the body of the shirt, Sam took a step back.

"You know, I could just leave you like this, all helpless and vulnerable," Sam chuckled, staring at her with no lack of humour. The idea of leaving her was tempting, indeed…

Mikaela bristled. "You wouldn't dare!"

His hands returned to her, freeing her of the cotton trap. "You're right, I wouldn't. I'm too much of a gentleman." He tossed the shirt aside. "Need help with the shorts?"

She sighed. "No, I don't really need to lift my arms for that." Using the undamaged sides of her hands, she pushed the white shorts down, taking her panties with them. For his part, Sam cocked his hip against the vanity and watched with a deep appreciation for the female form. She used her teeth on the gauze wrapped around her hands, tossing the used bandages into the sink. "I told you not to enjoy yourself too much," she said ruefully.

"I'm not," he objected, crossing his arms. "I'm supervising."

"'_Supervising_' my ass," she snorted.

"Believe me, I have no problem supervising your ass," he replied.

"I'm sure you don't," Mikaela said flatly, nodding to the beginnings of an erection tenting the front of Sam's sweatpants.

He looked down, and then cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah, it has a mind of its own," he said, quirking a guilty smile. "I can leave, if you want. Give you a little privacy."

'_That would probably be best,' _she thought ruefully, glancing down at Sam's arousal again and feeling an answering ache between her legs. There was no point in getting snugly with him here when it was all bound to end badly. The only reason she was here in the first place was because they had nearly been _killed_. Her eyes drew back to Sam's face, his expression openly waiting on her for her answer. He was just as beat up as she, if not more. God, she _loved_ this man. And yet she wanted to run as fast and as far as she could from him. Resigning herself to the situation, she was already in as deep as she could get and they were both in need of a scrub.

"No, don't go. There's no point- we've already seen each other naked." Opening the glass door of the stall with her foot, she waved an invitation that veiled her reluctance. "Might as well save some water, right?"

"You won't find any objections here," Sam intoned eagerly, shucking his sweats and peeling off the plastic wrap covering his right arm. There was room for both of them in the stall, albeit they were permanently invading each other's personal space. Adjusting the water for the right temperature, Sam guided Mikaela under the spray to let her wash first. The touch of the water was soothing, easing the lingering soreness from her body. Looking down at her raw palms, she was faced with two new problems; one, the tightness in her arms was not going to allow her to scrub her hair comfortably, and two, even if she did summon the strength to wash her hair, the shampoo was going to feel like vinegar in her open wounds.

"The soap is going to hurt like a bitch," Sam realized, voicing the thought aloud. It was basically his fault she suffering in her current condition, which only struck him to the core.

"I can handle it," she sighed, reaching for the shampoo bottle. Sam beat her too it, drawing it out of reach. When her eyes darted up to glare, he could see she was loath to ask for help again. She was too proud.

"How about I help?" he offered.

"You have your own problems to deal with," Mikaela countered, trying to put some space between them. Pride and the burning need to distance herself from what her heart wanted stood in the way of accepting anything more from him. Her attempted escape was impeded by the confines of their glass cage, the only thing between them being a stream of steaming water. It was hard to ignore how handsome Sam looked under the spray of the water, the lean lines of his body slick with rivulets of water. Even mismatched as he was with a limp left arm, a pasty-white rubbery right arm, patched by mottled rainbows of bruises, he tugged at her resisting heartstrings. "I can wash myself."

"But it'd be easier if I just helped," he insisted, making the mistake of touching her.

Mikaela tensed, shaking away from his hand. She couldn't afford to fall victim to his touch. The stupidity of inviting him into the shower was still burning, but having him touch her and look at her like he was… It was only going to put her in a place she didn't want to be. "I can take care of myself, Sam. You need to look after yourself."

He had expected her refusal, though it still hurt to watch her retreat. The wariness he had encountered when they had first met in the Vautz's garage was back, as if what they had shared in Phoenix had been erased in Barricade's attack. _'God no…' _To be back where they started, or even worse off than before… His whole body clenched painfully with the idea that the woman he loved was forever out of his reach.

All Mikaela saw on his face was a flash of pain, no context behind it. A moment of regret stung. "I didn't hurt you when I shook off your arm, did I?"

For a single moment, he glimpsed beyond her shield of wariness. Barricade had not erased her feelings for him, merely scared them into hiding. They were still there, guarded. God, the relief that hit him was enough to make him cry.

"No, you didn't hurt me. I'm okay," he replied tightly. More than okay, knowing he still had a chance.

Realizing how vulnerable she was, Mikaela jerked back. A muscle in her shoulder gave into a spasm from the quick movement, throwing her off balance. She slipped on the wet stall floor, sprawling forward with a yelp. To her utter humiliation, she sprawled straight into Sam.

"Are _you_ okay?" he asked, staring down at her. He obviously didn't mind the invasion of personal space, one arm sliding around her lower back to help support her, also trapping her to him.

"I'm fine," she huffed, shoving away. She used her knuckles to knead the squirming muscle, grimacing dourly.

"How about we compromise, Mickey? We're both pretty pathetic right now, so if you help me wash my back, I'll help you wash yours."

There was a long moment of deliberate silence, and then an indelicate snort rattled through her nostrils.

"_Fine._ You wash my back and I'll wash yours."

It was easier said than done. Their close proximity made them hyper-aware of the other's movements, and each touch felt like flame to bare skin. Flagrant temptation ran thick in their blood as they touched, shared breaths, sliding their water-slicked bodies against each other to trade places under the showerhead. It would have been too easy to meld their mouths together and taste the morning in their kiss. Sam's full-blown erection was a testament to the temptation he was resisting. The only reason he hadn't grabbed Mikaela by the hips and sank into her to the hilt was out of respect for her. She wanted the distance. Mikaela's arousal was far more subtle, though her resistance was far more determined. Her eyes betrayed how badly she wanted to feel his hard length pulsing in her, to feel his heart beat in time to hers. Fear of what would happen to her afterwards kept her at bay.

'_I won't do it. I won't do it. I won't do it!' _

Her fingertips were relatively unscathed, so she used them to handle the facecloth across Sam's torso. She refused to meet his eyes as she traced the rigid lines of his body.

'_Don't do it, Mikaela. Don't even look him in the eye! You know you'll give in if you do!' _

Concentrating so hard on not looking up, she forgot to focus on how far she was going down. Her hand ended up settling on his jutting manhood, feeling it jump beneath her touch.

"Oh God-!"

They gasped at the same time, both for entirely different reasons. Suddenly Sam's mouth was on hers, one hand splayed in her hair, the other curved to the swell of her ass to bring her body to him. It was one thing to resist sexual temptation while the woman of his dreams was running her hands all over his naked body, but if she was going to start touching him _down there_, all bets were off. And it wasn't like he was adverse to the idea of sex in the shower with her.

A tiny moan escaped Mikaela's parted lips, surprising the hell out of her. For all the resistance she had put up before, she was enjoying the kiss. Loving it, even. She didn't want to say no, so she let Sam pull her closer so that not even the water that slicked their bodies could get between them. Her arms came around him, surprisingly desperate to feel his strong, living body against her, to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest. Unable to palm the long muscles of his back, she used her fingertips to ghost over his spine, grinning into Sam's lips when he shivered.

"Mickey," he groaned, sounding like a plea. "Mickey, _please._" He thrust against her, his whole body tight with primal need that had risen in him with a vengeance. He needed this woman like he needed his next breath.

The thick, heavy presence of his arousal against her belly shot a thrill through her nether regions. She _wanted_ him inside her. After a shuddering breath in and out, she caught his darkened gaze and nodded "Alright."

The words barely out of her mouth before she was spun around to face the tiled wall. One strong hand delved between her legs, stroking the silken heat that had pooled there. A small mewl left her lips, followed by a shuddering moan as he sank two fingers into her. His long body bent over her back, moulding to the outline of her body. As one hand stroked her, the other curled upwards, taking one of her breasts in hand. He was unbelievably desperate to feel every inch of her inside and out. Her hands curled into fists with the intensity of the sensations, the bite of pain offered by the rawness of her palms only fuelling the rage of the fire in her blood.

Perhaps it was their brush with death the day before that made them want to feel so alive now. Whatever the reason was, when Sam finally nudged Mikaela's legs apart with his knees and sank into her tight, wet haven, they both saw stars. Hungry to have him deep inside her, Mikaela pushed back, feeling him fill her and then some. A growl vibrated through his chest, sliding between their skin and running up Mikaela's spine. God, it felt good to feel such a powerful body around her, _inside_ her. She set the pace, fast and deep, starved for the roiling satisfaction that coiled powerfully in the junction between her legs. A wanting noise drifted from Sam, lingering in her ears, and then she found his hot mouth on her shoulder, suckling the skin to have her taste in his mouth.

Their completion came fast and wild. Twin cries rose up over the patter of water across the shower stall. In the aftermath, the tiled wall was the only thing holding them upright. They lingered for quite awhile, silent except for panting. Sam was the first to move, pulling out, but not pulling away. Gentle hands, trembling from the force of his orgasm, took Mikaela by the waist and turned her back once more. He bent to rest his weight against her, his face buried into her wet hair, his arms curling around her possessively. The message was clear: he didn't want to let her go. And in that moment, Mikaela didn't want to let him go either.

Unfortunately, the world had other plans. Three disturbingly loud and deliberate bangs rattled through the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Mikaela whispered, breaking away out of bewilderment.

A long drawn-out groan whined from Sam at the loss of her touch. "A sign that we should hurry up."

Rinsing what remained of soap and arousal off them, they helped to towel each other off. Sam slipped into another pair of sweatpants, accompanied by a faded blue tee. Aware that Mikaela had nothing, he dug into his drawers and found a pair of drawstring pyjama pants she could tie in place and a shirt that was relatively small for him but adequate for her. It wasn't the height of fashion, but it would do for the day until Sarah or someone could lend her some girly clothes.

"Come on, Witwicky! We don't have all day!"someone called through the floor. The tone was annoyed, but in the sense of a good friend's annoyance.

"Don't rush us, Epps! _Some_ of us had to fight for our lives yesterday!" Sam yelled from the top of the stairs.

"And _some _of us are too hungry to care!" Robert Epps replied.

Mikaela couldn't smother her grin any longer. She hopped lightly on the first step, almost psyching herself out by the idea of walking in on all her old friends. Who was going to be there? Who wasn't? Were they all going to be as forgiving as Sam for her walking out? Was she going to fit back in as if the last 16 years didn't happen?

A little push to her lower back had her looking back.

"Go on- they'll want to see you first," Sam urged. It was all she needed to launch down the steps. Sam's house, or what she saw of it as she blindly ran towards the smells of food and the sounds of lively conversation, was not the airy white-walled-glass-and-chrome design of a futuristic house built with alien engineering knowhow. The floors were old scratched hardwood, warped with age; the walls painted in warm, muted tones of yellow. The furniture was an assortment of comfortable pieces, most of it looking as if it had taken some serious beatings in the past from rough play. Somewhere in one of the rooms, an air conditioner chugged tiredly to keep the desert heat at bay.

Breathless, with her heartbeat ringing in her ears, Mikaela swung into the kitchen entrance. All conversation stopped as several heads swung around. A stunned moment passed, and then people were out of their seats surrounding her, wrapping her in hugs that hurt her bruises and dragging her to the table to welcome her back into the group. Two prominent faces she noted were Will and good old Epps- time and war had aged them, Will's hair already fading to a darkened gray, Epps' face lined deeper from constant frowning on the battlefield. The details were hardly noticeable, though, especially as they smiled and brought her into bear hugs, exclaiming how long it had been since they'd seen her and how much she had changed. Sarah was there, wiping her hands on a dishtowel before insinuating herself into the group menagerie to give her share of hugs, and Maggie even set aside her smart little laptop to wrestle her way in. The women had changed as the men had, worn down from war but still very much alive in their eyes and smiles.

"You look so much better than you did last night," Sarah said, pushing back wet tangles of hair to peer expertly into Mikaela's face. Satisfied with what she saw, she strapped Mikaela with another tight hug. "We were all so worried when the Aerialbots came in. Sam was just about beside himself when he carried you out."

"I'm fine now, sort of," Mikaela insisted, grimacing as sore muscles were tested. "I feel much better than I did."

Epps patted her forearm. "Sure you do, Mickey. The floors aren't sound proof, you know." He bobbed his eyebrows to get his point across, causing Mikaela to flush deeply.

"Urgh, you _heard_ that?" she groaned, ducking her head. "I thought we were being quiet."

Will whacked Epps off, a small smirk sparkling in his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Mickey. We've all been there before- we understand."

A dramatic sigh drifted from the floor. "Ah, _l'amour, l'amour- _I could have done so much better for her."

"Shut up, Fluffy," Sam growled as he entered the kitchen.

"_Cochon," _the iguana snorted, returning to his bowl of crickets.

Sam's round of greetings was far less enthusiastic as Mikaela's had been, but no less relieved that he was alright. He pulled out the vacant chair next to her and sat down heavily. Sarah placed a fond sisterly kiss to his temple and set two plates down, one for Sam and the other for Mikaela.

"You must be starved," she said, urging them to eat. To everyone else who looked at her expectantly, she shooed them with her hands. "Don't look at me. You all know how to serve yourselves."

In the mad dash for breakfast that ensued, Mikaela noted a few new faces mixed in with the old. A pretty blond teen was fighting her way between Epps and Will, impeded by the presence of a dangerous looking rifle strapped to her back. A young boy no older than 10 hung back, content in the knowledge that his mother always had a plate hidden away for him. A giant hulk of a man loomed over everyone, dark-skinned and dark-haired with piercing features that struck as purely masculine.

Sam chuckled as he watched Mikaela try and place the strange faces. "The blond is Annabelle all grown up," he informed, and then nodded to the young boy. "That's her younger brother Billy."

Mikaela had to do a double take of both. "Annie's so grown up now! I just remember her as a little baby!" she gasped.

"And she unfortunately takes after Ironhide now," Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Billy's a big sweetheart, though." He nodded to the last stranger in the room, who turned as if he felt the new attention. "And that's Viktor Ashkroft, one of our doctors. He helped treat you yesterday."

Viktor extended a large, steady hand. "It is a pleasure to see you are alright," he intoned, his voice deeply accented by his native Russian tongue.

"Yeah, uh, thanks," Mikaela said, letting her hand be grasped gently. Instead of shaking it in greeting, Viktor turned her palm up to inspect it.

"Your wounds are healing nicely," he commented. "What I have heard of your strength in battle has not been exaggerated." A languid smile curved his strong features.

Sam coughed, not-so-subtly taking one of Mikaela's chair legs and dragging her closer in obvious claim. Viktor chuckled, backing away to settle in his chair at the other end of the table.

"_Ahem,"_ someone said pointedly, announcing it from under the table. _"Ahem!"_

"Oh!" Mikaela jumped when something started scratching at her knee. She ducked down, surprised to come face-to-face with a three-foot-tall fruit bat, its narrow fox-like face peering up at her with sparkling brown eyes.

"Well, hello there, beautiful!" it chimed. "Name's Barnaby!"

There was an initial bout of surprise, but when no one else reacted to the talking bat beneath the table, Mikaela figured he was like Fluffy. "N-nice to meet you," she replied, taking an extended wing-claw to shake with her finger. "Are you one of Perceptor's assistants, too?"

"Right you are! I'm the one that keeps that horny lizard in check," the bat proclaimed happily, flapping a wing at a despondant Fluffy.

Annabelle wandered back to the table and happily took a spot next to Mikaela. Unstrapping her rifle, she leaned it against her chair and reached an arm beneath the table. "Come on, Barnaby, you know better than to hide under there." She dragged him out and swung him onto her back, the bat's large wings wrapping around her shoulders like a cape. She then grinned at Mikaela, sweeping her short cropped hair out of her bright blue eyes. "It's so great to finally meet the Mikaela Banes that changed my diapers," she said, voice ringing with content self-confidence. "Sorry that I don't remember you, but I'm guessing you remember me, right?"

"You're a lot bigger than the Annabelle I remember," Mikaela replied.

"She's a lot more trouble, too," Will said fondly, mussing his daughter's hair as he passed.

"_Dad!" _

"I'm not any trouble, though," Billy intoned shyly, quirking a sweet smile for Mikaela as he hopped into a chair and fed Barnaby a piece of melon.

Once the last person settled at the table, leaving everyone delightedly squished elbow-to-elbow with their neighbour, Mikaela was promptly insinuated into the obviously tight-knit group. There was a feeling of open welcoming amongst all of them, even those she had not met before. Viktor was kind and benevolent from his end of the table, though Sam seemed to find his interest in Mikaela as some cause for jealousy. Maggie and Sarah eagerly grilled her for details of how she and Sam stumbled across each other, and then made her swear to divulge the juicier details when it was just them girls. Billy seemed to like her for the mere fact that she was very pretty and his godfather/uncle Sam looked so happy every time he looked at her. Epps, Will, and Annabelle were far more interested in what happened with Barricade and how she faired with Sam's gun in battle. And if she wasn't overwhelmed enough by the human attention, Fluffy seemed to think it alright to curl around her feet and sing to her while Barnaby hopped to the floor and tried to police the iguana away.

It was loud, crazy, and confusing, but most of all it felt like _home_. A real home. Something she hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Hey, hey, you okay?" Sam murmured, feeling the tremor that shivered through her. An embarrassing sniff rose from her as a precursor to tears. As the others noticed, they quieted down, unsure if something was wrong or something had been said to upset her. Setting down the fork she'd been handling awkward, she reached for a napkin to wipe at her eyes.

"I'm fine, really." A watery little laugh followed. "It's just- it's so great to see you all again. It feels as if I never left."

"Aw, sweetheart, it's great to have you back, for however long you want to stay," Sarah said, leaning in to lay a hand over Mikaela's.

Mikaela nodded, laughing again at being so overwhelmed. She let Sam wrap an arm around her, leaning into his side without the strength or desire to lean away.

A rapid series of tapping on the kitchen window had everyone looking up. Two familiar heads peered in through the glass, one being a fresh-faced handsome blond and the other a bright-eyed blue-haired young man.

"Bumblebee, Bluestreak!" Mikaela exclaimed, gasping back her tears. When the holograms grinned and started waving excitedly to her, she pushed back weakly from the table. "Do you mind if I-?"

"Go, honey," Maggie urged as the voice for the group.

Sam guided her to the back door, opening it for her to allow two excited holographic blurs to crash in on her.

"Mikaela! You're alright! I was so worried!" Bumblebee cried, rubbing his head to hers. His soft blond hair felt like kitten fur. Bluestreak crowded in from the other side, running his mouth a mile a minute as he exclaimed his relief over her being alright and repeating several apologies over the fact that he hadn't been able to keep her safe.

"Awww, guys, it's alright, I'm okay," Mikaela assured, gasping for air as they smothered her in alien love. She looked to Sam desperately, who stepped in to extricate her from the holographic group hug.

"She's not a squeeze toy you can maul, you two," he chastised lightly, which was a bit rich coming from him. "Let the bruises heal first, will you?"

Bumblebee was reluctant to let go, remaining attached even as Bluestreak backed off. He turned big blue pleading eyes on her, looking almost too excited to contain himself. "Oh, Mikaela, you have to come with us right away. Please! Everyone will be so happy to see you!" He started tugging her before he gained permission. As strong as the hologram was, he was mindful of Mikaela's healing body, gentle enough not to hurt her as he guided her out of the cool shadow of the house to the wide, flat expanse next to it sitting in the full blaze of the sun. Most of it was taken up by rusted farm equipment and an assortment of rusted vehicles from all eras. A single glance back showed Sam's house to have the outward appearance of an innocuous crooked farm house, probably several decades old. Dotting the flat, arid landscape nearby were several other structures, some being old houses and others an assortment of barns, obviously all existing as the disguised dwellings of the other humans.

"Where are you taking me, Bee?" Mikaela asked breathlessly, laughing at how eager the hologram was.

"Here!" Bumblebee stopped dead, spinning around grandly with an inhumanly wide smile brightening his face. In a shower of pixels, he and Bluestreak disappeared. And then the rotted graveyard of rust Bumblebee had dragged her to flickered, pixelated, and then shattered completely. In its place was a breath-taking assortment of the most beautiful cars, trucks, and various other pieces of heavy-duty machinery she had ever laid eyes on. After a moment of sheer awe to understand exactly what she was looking at, they all started to move.

No, not _move_.

_Stand up._

"Oh my god."

Just as it was on the night she had stood in the dingy alley with Sam and watched as five unbelievable vehicles transformed, she was struck with an awe that made time itself feel like it was slowing down. There were more than just five, now. There were _many_ of them, in all different shapes and sizes and colours. Bumblebee was near the front, eagerly waving to her as his parts clicked into place, and the ice-blue mech nearby grinning at her could only be Bluestreak. The Aerialbots were in the back, towering over everyone as they stretched. There were a few who she could guess the identities of just from Sam's descriptions in his books. All of them stood tall, proud, and larger than life; glittering optics shone in shadowed faceplates, smiles catching in the sunlight. Seeing them all made her heart ache, reminding her of how much she'd missed not just the humans, but _everyone_.

Glossy flames glinted merrily under the sun as one proud Cybertronian broke away from the crowd, taking two great steps forward before crouching. He was exactly as she remembered him, just as big, just as noble. Even his smile remained with the same understanding tilt as he looked down to her. A dark metal hand was extended, which she reached out for on instinct, using the back of her free hand to wipe away the budding tears that began to pool.

"Hello, Mikaela," the towering mech said, his voice as deep and as kind as it had ever been. Without shame of what she was doing, Mikaela hugged herself to the large fingers offered to her.

"Hello, Optimus."


	15. Chapter 15

*sigh* I know a few of you probably noticed that has been acting wonky for the past few days, and it's been a right pain in the ass. I was so scared that I would have to delay this chapter for a few more days because of all the time-warped delayed responses and things not showing up where they're supposed to. Imagine my delighted surprise when I got up this morning and discovered everything back to normal. The one thing that I was most worried for was the fact that people have submitted reviews in the last few days weren't showing up on the site and then I wouldn't be able to thank them for their kindness in this chapter. Now that the reviews have show up, there's no fear in missing the wonderful readers who were so kind to submit a little love for this one humble writer. *hugs*

My dearest and sincerest thanks to **Nienna Tinehtele, ilovenat1995, Onhiro, thomthom830, Lupis Noctis, Supermel Returns, bigguy204, Edward-mountain-is-so-real, MeakoXIII, Caz, Silveriss, FunkyFish1991, bandaidmyheart26, Moonpiper, AsakuraX, orangecountycruiser, teamtucker, Bluebird Soaring, Cynthia, Ahmose, Lucas4everPeyton, spedclass, Mizzle fo' Rizzle, leoshunny1985, , SonicH2O, Reaper85, FireFlyFlicker, Ironcow, OnceAWildCatAlwaysAWildCat, Lady Tecuma, ;], dragonryder7, Lecidre**, and **Sutzina Zion.** You all mean so much to me for the kindness and consideration you've shown through your reviews~ You are the ones who truly keep this story going. *cosmic hugs*

**Special welcomes back to **Lecidre**, who is back from Italy! I hope you had a good time over there, girl! :D

_Hormones/Prolactin_- This is probably a fact that all of you could have lived your entire lives without knowing, but recent studies have found that prolactin, a hormone released during orgasm, is four times higher in bodies when orgasms are achieved through intercourse than through masturbation. Why is this important? It's not; it just helps explain a line in the chapter below. As well, it helps to explain to frustrated women everywhere why men require a recovery period after sex, and generally fall asleep afterwards anyways. Prolactin counteracts dopamine, the hormone that helps get guys' joysticks revving and it is also connected to sleep.

**Now for a funny!** David Zinczenko, author of _Men, Love, and Sex: The Complete Users Guide for Women,_ to Huffington Post writer Arianna Huffington: _"Men go to sleep [after sex] because women don't turn into a pizza." _

**Chapter 15**

From the large fingers she had hugged herself to, Optimus took her into his palm to hold her to his spark in a gesture that was more fatherly than Prime-like. There was nothing in Mikaela's heart to resist such a show of affection from the mech. When her cheek touched the sun-warmed metal, she all could do was suck up the soreness in her arms to reach out and wrap herself to his angular chest. In a matter of moments, little rivulets of tears snaked down his blazing paint, but he paid no heed. Nor did Mikaela hurry to stifle her crying. There was no embarrassing wailing nor wet snuffling, or scrabbling at the great leader as if she were a child. Her tears simply fell for no other reason than for the fact that she was in Optimus Prime's presence again.

It had been too long since she had seen him. In that time, she had somehow forgotten how inspiring it was to simply be in his presence. The joy of rediscovering how warm it was to bask in the gentle power he radiated only made the tears flow harder.

As if she were again only a teenager, Optimus held her and let her cry for as long as she needed. A few Autobots shifted, trying to crane around their leader to get a look at the human they had all been dragged out to greet. From Optimus's incredibly fond gesture to Ambassador Witwicky's intensely proud expression as he watched his female be held, the other Autobots could only surmise that this human female was something special indeed.

When her tears dried up, Optimus drew her away from his chest to smile down at her.

"It's been too long," he said fondly.

"Maybe for me," Mikaela countered thickly, wiping her eyes and smoothing back her hair. "But sixteen years is the blink of an eye to you."

"Even the blink of an eye was enough to miss your presence," the Autobot said, smiling even wider when he detected a quiet giggle. He could see the toll time and heartache had taken on her, but even so, underneath it all, he still saw beautiful Mikaela Banes. "You have changed since we last saw each other."

The observation only caused the poor woman to flush, reminding her how much of a teenager she _wasn't_ anymore. Peering up at the Autobot's unfathomably blue optics, she replied, "You haven't changed at all."

"Perhaps not on the outside."

A scuffling beyond Optimus's shoulder revealed a tall red mech scampering away from Ratchet; Sideswipe had gotten too close and the medic did as he was wont to do- he threw something. Optimus stared over his shoulder with a smidgeon of exasperation, watching as Ratchet waltzed over to his fallen wrench and brandished it in a blatant threat to Sideswipe to let him know he was in for worse if he overstepped his bounds again. Predictably, Sideswipe pouted over the new dent in his head but ignored the threat completely.

Optimus turned back to Mikaela with a newly wry look painting his features. "And it would seem some of us have not changed on the inside, either."

Mikaela giggled, smiling when Ratchet returned to his spot next to Ironhide and offered her a kind nod.

"We might not have changed much, but there are plenty of new faceplates you haven't had the displeasure of dealing with yet," the medic intoned. gruff as ever, if not well-meaning beneath it all.

"We love you too, Ratchet!" someone yelled from the back, causing a ripple of laughter to weave through the ranks.

The short exchange made Mikaela want to stay right where she was for the rest of her life, if only for the chance to get to know all the new cheeky personalities bouncing around the Autobot ranks. "Are you going to start introducing me, or do I have to guess who everyone is from Sam's books?"

"Aw, man! You read his books _already_?" By the sounds of the exclamation, there had been at least one bot who had been hoping to make a good first impression without Sam's novels getting in the way. Several others sagged when their hopes were dashed, too.

Mikaela quirked an odd smile, speaking the alien populace in general. "Yeah, I read most of them- they were really good. I absolutely _loved_ the characters."

With the admission, a few of the more eager bots perked back up. If she loved the characters, then she was going to _adore_ their real life counterparts.

"There are many of us now compared to when you were last with us, so introductions may have to wait," Optimus intoned. "As you have probably come to guess, there are a few things that you and I need to address about your current situation. As soon as possible, at best."

Mikaela's expression faltered. "Oh…yeah." She'd much rather have fun rubbing elbows with a bunch of funny giant alien robots than face the music about her life currently crashing down around her ankles. Not that it had been much of a life to begin with.

"Then, if you will permit me, let us head down to my office." With her hesitant nod, Optimus turned, and in perfect choreography, the Autobots jostled out of his way so that he could take the lead down the largest set of stairs Mikaela had ever seen. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the huge hole in the ground before; it opened over a deep concrete hangar with one wall slanted up to accommodate the stairs and a long ramp for the transformers to drive up and down.

Ratchet could be heard behind them grumbling a rough, "Perceptor still wants you," to Sam. As if he were merely treating an adolescent and not a highly respected alien figure, the medic caught Sam in his fist and toted him down the ramp.

As soon as everyone was back underground, the hangar doors slid back into place. To anyone above ground, there would have been no trace of an alien base at all.

As it turned out, the Autobot's underground base was predictably _huge_. Sometime during her decade and a half absence, they had managed to land the ship Optimus and his team had come in- which was an absolutely behemoth ship- and _buried_ it. And not just throwing a wussy layer of dirt over it, either. It was _levels_ below ground. When Ratchet and Sam wheeled off on the main floor to the designated workspace Perceptor was lurking in, Optimus still carried Mikaela through a number of corridors until they came upon a lift large enough for Optimus to board. They watched three more levels pass by before they came upon the largest set of doors Mikaela had ever seen. When they hissed open, a surprisingly fresh breeze of cool air passed over her face.

"We have a ventilation system in place for the few humans we allow down on this level," Optimus explained before Mikaela even had to ask. Optimus moved fluidly through the familiar spacious halls to their desired destination, which was a completely unremarkable door depicting some squiggles that could have been his name in Cybertronian. The Prime's office itself was also unremarkable- lights overhead, a monster-sized desk paired with a monster-sized chair, and an alien desktop computer surrounded by a mess of data pads.

"Here we are," Prime announced fondly, setting Mikaela down on the corner of the desk. Settling into his own chair, he pulled open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a human-sized leather chair that looked like doll furniture in his large hand. "For your own comfort," he said, setting it down.

It took a moment to comprehend the randomness of seeing the great Optimus Prime pulling human furniture out of his desk. When she cracked a laughing smile, he invited her to the edge of his desk to look down, which only made her laugh harder. In the open drawer was a jumbled collection of human-sized seating arrangements; a handful of threadbare chairs, two sorry-looking couches, a chaise, and half a dozen ottomans.

"No offense, but that is probably the last thing I ever thought to find in your drawers," Mikaela said, peering up at the unabashed Prime.

"I find keeping them on hand for meetings with humans is useful. Even some of the smaller Autobots have taken to using them when they come in to give their reports," Optimus explained. His optics sparkled with unvoiced mirth, letting Mikaela know that he knew exactly how silly it was to keep a pile of furniture in his desk, even though he didn't mind it in the least.

Mikaela shook her head. "Things really haven't changed around here, have they? You guys are still these amazing warriors fighting a millions-of-years-old war, and yet the moment you get off the battlefield you're just so…" she looked up at Optimus, helpless to the grin that lit her features, _"goofy."_

As always, Optimus took no insult to the observation. If anything, his humoured chuckle only underscored his agreement of the assessment. "No one can ever say my Autobots ever lacked a sense of humour." He then offered a finger to Mikaela, which she took and allowed herself to be guided back to the chair that had been set out for her. "But we are not here to discuss the eccentricities of the bots I command, are we?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Optimus at least allowed her the small concession to get comfortable before he himself dropped his fatherly manner for something more serious. It was in the way he held himself, straighter now, shoulders squared, the power that radiated from his stance; there was definitely a reason why Optimus Prime was Prime. While he reminded Mikaela of how small she was compared to him, he had the miraculous ability not to make her feel insignificant under his gaze.

"From what I have gathered, you would not be here on this base if it was not for Barricade's attack."

Mikaela's fists tightened in her lap. "Yes. But thanks to the Aerialbots, at least I'm alive."

"They are being commended for their bravery and quick thinking," Optimus assured, nodding.

Mikaela swallowed hard, nodding but saying nothing.

Prime continued with the assessment of the human's situation. "And were it not for Bumblebee' apparent meddling, you would have continued to have nothing to do with Sam, or any of us for that matter."

"Yes."

He leaned forward, balencing his elbows on the edge of his desk as he threaded his fingers together. "But now you are involved with us, and Barricade knows of your involvement. He will undoubtedly inform the others, and they will see you as a weak point to exploit. Do you understand the gravity of the situation."

"Of course I do." She didn't mean to sound so sharp, but it was too late to correct her tone.

Optimus seemingly took no notice. "I want to assure you that while you are here, you are under my protection and the Autobots will see to it that nothing happens to you. But, as i understand things, to be kept here under our watch is most likely the _last_ thing you wish to happen, especially on an indefinite basis."

"You know I'm happy to see all of you again, Optimus. I really have missed you all, but I _can't_ stay. There's no way I'd be able to survive like a prisoner here, watched over every second of the day in case some Decepticon trapezes along who thinks I'd be good target practise to strike at. That's not the way I want to live my life. I thought I was done with the fear and running a long time ago."

She caught a whoosh of air over her face as Optimus sighed. "You understand that you are not, and will not, become or be treated as a prisoner here. Yes, we will extend our protection to you, but that does not mean that we intend to trap you in a foxhole. Security measures have changed since you have last been here; they have improved greatly for my Autobots protction and for the humans. You will have the same freedoms and considerations as every other human who resides on base on a permanent basis."

"Like Sam, Will, and the others?"

"Yes. Their residence here was by their own choice, rather than choose to live in the nearest town and travel into base to see to their duties. We are all aware of the dangers they are in, but there are no restrictions on when and where they are allowed to go off base. They live as they wish."

"And the Autobots just happen to follow them wherever they go," Mikaela intoned, heated with a dash of sarcasm.

"In the case of Sam, who is a very important figure involved in our liaisons between our species, he is generally accompanied by Bumblebee for protection. It is a customary gesture even in your culture for many important public figures to be accompanied by a bodyguard of some sort, so Sam and Bumblebee's arrangement should not be considered out of the ordinary. Although, I don't believe either of them see it as a chore to be in each other's company, in any case."

"They're still best friends," Mikaela said, more to herself than Optimus.

"Their friendship has only deepened throughout the years," Optimus conceded. "As for our other human allies- they are not prisoners of their lifestyle choice. Should Sarah wish to travel into town for groceries, or should Epps and Maggie have the desire to go out for dinner and a movie, they are not inclined to inform anyone of their business. They have their own means of protection. But, should a friend who happens to be an Autobot offer a free ride, who are they to say no? If an Autobot happens to pop up somewhere seemingly by coincidence, it is generally because it is coincidence."

"You have a point..." She bit her lip, trying to take everything into consideration. After a fashion, she admitted, "At least staying here for now won't be as painful as I thought it'd be."

"We'll try and make it as painless as possible," Optimus chuckled. "If you so need, Perceptor or Wheeljack could be called upon to construct a device that will help with everyday chores until your hands have healed adequately."

The name 'Wheeljack' brought back a brief memory of a character in Sam's books that had a talent for blowing shit up. And she already had seen enough of Perceptor's weird science experients to not want to go near him for a very long time. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "I think I'll pass on that option."

The Prime inclined his head. "Perhaps it's better that way."

Pressing her lips together to hide her smile, Mikaela took a moment to consider the question she wanted to ask. "How long do you think I'll have to stay here?"

"I cannot say for sure."

She flinched. The longer she stayed here, with Sam, _with everybody_, the harder it was going to be to leave. She hadn't even been here a day and it was already starting to feel like home. "There's no chance of me going back to Gloria and Oscar's to hide, is there?" she asked miserably.

"We will not stop you, if that is what you wish to do, but so long as the Decepticons are aware of your connection to us, no matter how superficial it may be, you will be putting them in danger."

A painful tightness gripped Mikaela's heart. She loved Gloria and Oscar more than anything- they were her family. They didn't deserve to be put in danger after everything they had already done for her. "I can't do that to them…"

"Since going back to them is out of the question and you obviously do not want to stay here on a permanent basis, then the only other option is to hide you away somewhere else where you cannot be found."

"Witness protection program," she sighed bitterly.

"Something to that degree," Optimus said. "An alternate identity will be developed for you, and we will find a residence somewhere where you will remain undisturbed by outside forces. If need be, we will create a place that is completely self-sufficent in order to limit your contact with anyone else."

She peered up at the towering Autobot with a strained humour in her eyes. "Can you at least send me somewhere nice for my exile, like Australia or something?"

"I will see what can be done," he acquiesced softly. He outstretched his hand to offer his finger once more, which Mikaela leaned against gratefully. In that gesture, Optimus let the weight of his Primely duties fall to something a little more mortal, his fondness for the little human shining through once more. "Should you ever change your mind, you will always be welcome here."

"I know," Mikaela admitted quietly.

"And you would not be in want of a place to stay. I am quite certain Sam would be willing to open his entire house to you on a permanent basis if you were to even express the slightest inclination to stay."

"I think it was unanimously decided without me that I was staying there anyways while I'm here," Mikaela said, shaking her head.

Optimus chuckled. "And do you object to it?"

She opened her mouth for an automatic 'no', but found she didn't have the desire to voice it. In the end, she shook her head and shrugged. "I don't mind it. It's only temporary, anyways. I just don't want to give anyone the wrong impression by staying there."

"That you and Sam are indulging in each others' company in a far more intimate way than just 'friends'?" Optimus insinuated, optic ridge quirked at her.

A warm flush passed over Mikaela's cheeks. "Okay, so maybe everyone already has the wrong impression…"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Mikaela. No one is thinking ill of either of you for taking advantage of such an occasion. In contrast, I believe there are quite a few who are grateful for your reappearance in Sam's life."

"Bumblebee being one of them," she pointed out ruefully. Little orchestrator of matchmaking chaos that he was…

"And_ I_ would be another."

There was no disguising the look of surprise that shot across Mikaela's face.

Optimus chuckled. "You don't have to look so shocked. Sam is a good friend of mine, and I owe him my life on several different counts. What I saw of him this morning, just in the way he looked at you…" The light in his optics deepened, his expression turning so sincere that it touched Mikaela's heart. "I haven't seen that side of Sam for a very long time. I was starting to believe it didn't exist anymore."

Shock melted into a sad smile as Mikaela stared back into Optimus's handsome faceplate. "I know everyone keeps saying that, and I'm really happy that I've been able to do something so great for him, but I _still_ have to leave. This just isn't the place for me. He'll get over it and he'll get on with his life, just like he did the last time."

Optimus shook his head gently, the tip of his finger brushing Mikaela's cheek in a gesture that was so fatherly that it made her heart ache. "Think what you will, Mikaela, but I do not believe Sam ever got over you in the first place."

She found no words to refute the claim. Instead, her gaze fell to her lap. Another breeze of air brushed over her as Optimus sighed, taking back his hand.

"In any case, you are here for now and it is my hope that your stay will be an adequate one."

"I'm sure it will be."

He raised a hand to his audio receptor, receiving a brief message. "Sarah Lennox will be down in a few moments to take you back to her home. She mentioned outfitting you with something more appropriate than Sam's hand-me-downs."

A deep-seated wave of gratitude swept through her as she looked down at the rumpled outfit she was clad in. "Thank god. I look like a ragamuffin."

Optimus nodded. "Arrangements will be made tomorrow for you to gather your possessions from your home so that you will not have to continue living out of others' closets."

Mikaela pushed herself to her feet, letting Optimus sweep her chair back into its drawer. "Don't go to too much trouble. I don't have a lot of stuff begin with."

"Nevertheless, you are worth the effort."

* * *

"Sam Witwicky, will you please stop craning your neck."

Instead of waiting for his patient to look around, Perceptor took the human's head in hand and manually turned it to its proper orientation. There was a minute of peace to allow the scientist to go about his appraisal of the rubber sealant, and then Sam was back to craning around to look down the long corridor he knew led to the lift that led down to the _Ark_. The temptation of follow after Mikaela and Optimus was eating at him.

"Ambassador Samuel Witwicky, do not make me order you to sit still," Perceptor intoned sharply.

"I outrank you," Sam pouted, nevertheless giving into the implied threat to sit still on his uncomfortable metal stool anyways.

"Should it matter? You're offsetting the sealant on your arm," Perceptor informed impatiently. "Keep this up and I will never get to finishing it."

Remembering that Perceptor was only trying to do his job, and he really didn't have to finish Sam's arm if he didn't want to, Sam relented all desire to resist. "Sorry, I just-."

"Your female is fine for the moment with Optimus," Perceptor interrupted. "She is currently not exerting herself nor is she under any obvious emotional stress. There is nothing for you to worry about." Other than the fact that Perceptor was keeping a sensor lock on her while she was several hundred feet below concrete, steel, and dirt.

"You know it's creepy when you do that, right? It's okay when Optimus acts all omnipotent, but it's a whole other level of weird when you do."

The scientist shot him a narrowed look, making a prissy noise through his vents. "I was merely trying to assuage your anxieties. I'll remember not to do so for future reference."

"Oh, come on Percy, you know what I meant." He shifted to get more comfortable on his seat. "And I'm not _anxious_ about anything; I just want to know what they're talking about…" And, even though he was loath to admit it in front of Perceptor, who undoubtedly would analyze the statement to death, he was sort of missing not having her at his side.

"It is nothing to concern yourself with, Sam," Ratchet assured, looking up from his current project at the workbench he was standing at. "Given a moment alone, Mikaela will be bound to tell you everything of her conversation with Optimus if you ask." He smiled a tired smile, latent fondness for the human female rising in him once more. "To be perfectly honest, I look forward to speaking with her, as well. She had always been such a brilliant student under my tutelage. I have missed her in her absence."

"Haven't we all?" Sam sighed.

A strange revving noise rattled from deep within the medic. "Perhaps if you court her right, she will be inclined to stay this time?"

Sam slanted the chartreuse mech a sly look. "You looking to make a conspiracy out of it, Ratch'?"

Ratchet chuckled. "If it means having her back and you becoming someone else's problem to take care of, then I would be willing to contribute whatever it takes."

The human offered a jaded half-smile to the towering CMO. "Well, that's good to know, I guess. Somehow I doubt flowers and chocolate would make much difference this time around, anyways."

Ratchet gave an oddly sympathetic nod.

Perceptor was less understanding of the matter. "It has been sixteen Earth years since she separated herself from you and this war. A time interval such as that is a substantial amount of time for your kind, and you have only been in contact with her for the last three days. How can you be making such grand statements as wishing to spend the rest of your short life with her so soon after being reunited? You were always such a logical tactician; this behaviour does not follow your pre-existing patterns."

"Humans become illogical when they fall in love, much like we do," Ratchet intoned, accepting a grateful nod from Sam.

"I haven't felt this way in forever. I really do love her." He sighed contentedly, freed by how natural it felt to say the words aloud. "I really, really love her. I never stopped."

"Such dedication," Perceptor noted aloud, which could have been a compliment, an admonition, or merely an observation. "If you're set on courting her, I don't see what her problem should be in accepting your advances. Physically wise, you are an excellent specimen of your species; you're in perfect health, strong, relatively symmetrical- or you will be as soon as I complete your arm- and you are perfectly capable of impregnating her with strong offspring. Paired with your apparent dedication to her and your accumulated monetary wealth, you would be an exceptional choice as a mate."

"It's not always that easy, Perceptor…" Sam replied, trying to smother his annoyance. Good old Perceptor; one of the smartest beings in the universe, yet sometimes one of the most oblivious, too.

The door at the far end of the gigantic underground lab swished open, admitting two towering dark forms. They were easily identified as Ironhide and Wheeljack by Ironhide's customary gravelly growling as he observed the damages Sam's blaster had taken and Wheeljack's impassioned lamenting over Sam's destroyed subspace-pocket pants he'd worked so hard to create.

"-spent a whole two months trying to skim down the design, and another three designing an interdimentional rift that could move with the material without collapsing when he sat down! All that for nothing! Nothing, I tell you!"

Sam coughed guiltily. "Sorry about that, Jack. I was trying to save my ass, not my pants."

The engineer waved him off, the strange crystal fins on either side of his head lighting up briefly. "Oh, don't worry about it, Witwicky. I'm just complaining. I've got the design specs around here somewhere, so I'll have a new pair done up in a jiffy."

"Ah, great." Sam would have said more, but his entire body was forcibly turned around so Perceptor could observe a certain part of his arm, lifting and bending it without mind of what Sam would think. Accustomed to being manhandled by the socially-graceless bot, Sam merely turned his attentions to Ironhide, whose workspace was luckily the spread of counter he was currently facing. "How's my blaster looking?"

"Repairable," grunted the weapons master. "As soon as I readjust the plasma distributers, a human engineer will be able to see to the rest, and then I can return to improving our base's perimeter defences."

"I guess that's good news," Sam shrugged. Seeing as no more conversation was necessary for the moment, he resigned to the boredom the next several hours were going to grant him as Perceptor worked to replicate a feasible looking arm. There was no doubt he was lucky to be fighting alongside such technically advances life forms, but it was pure luck that they had turned out to be such great mimics as well. Good enough mimics to recreate a new arm no different from the old. Transformers knew how to create extraordinary lookalikes, but the lengths of perfection they went to in order to get the illusion right were sometimes damnably annoying. Having Perceptor implant each synthetic hair separately into his arm was one thing that stretched his patience to the limit.

"Barnaby, I believe I am ready to begin airbrushing," Perceptor announced as soon as he was satisfied that the pseudo-skin had settled evenly. From the darkness of the cavernous ceiling above, Barnaby glided down, captured the sleek, alien air-compressor needed for the task, and wheeled over to drop it near the scientist's feet. It took several trips for the bat to gather the needed canisters of specialized paint, and on his final loop, he brought a smock and facemask for Sam to protect him from the ordeal.

"Perceptor will have you right as rain in no time," Barnaby assured needlessly, patting Sam on the knee. "That there pretty girly of yours will never be able to tell the difference." Sam nodded kindly, slipping on his smock and mask as the bat took wing and flew off.

Several holographic screens flickered to life around the singular metal stool Sam was perched on, each showing an approximation of what his right arm should look like. There were graphs to show skin colour variances, grids to display where and how dark freckles should be, and where the veins beneath his skin were located. Even the details of his fingernails were shown, right down to the number of grooves in each nail.

"All requested files are uploaded and ready, _mon capitaine_."

"Yes, thank you, Fluffy," Perceptor replied curtly, busy mixing the right shades of flesh tones.

As the arduous process got underway, the large doors to the subterranean lab hissed open once more, this time admitting a slew of humans ready for their shift. Completely at home with the mix of Earthling and Cybertronian company, neither humans nor transformers gave the other more notice than a sparse greeting between friends. A hailing shout came from the floor as someone spotted Sam, announcing the entrance of two faces he had not seen at breakfast. Moments later, a tall, well-built male and a sharp-eyed, _very_ pregnant female appeared over the top of the berth; none other than Haellie and Chase Hendrix, resident friends and engineers.

"Look who's back in almost one piece," Haellie greeted humouredly, grinning brightly.

"Just a little scratch. Nothing that can't be fixed up with a fresh coat of paint," Sam joked, extending his left arm for a handshake, which both humans took in turn.

"It's _always_ a 'little scratch' with you, Witwicky," Chase replied, her handshake hard enough to hurt.

"I haven't died yet, Hendrix," Sam countered, then shook his head. "Should you even be down here in your condition? You look ready to pop any day now." He nodded to her swollen abdomen, which Chase stubbornly crossed her arms over.

"You gonna stop me, gimpy?"

With Haellie discreetly and desperately shaking his head 'no' behind his wife, Sam took the hint. "Nope, I guess not."

"Good, 'cause I'm pregnant, not dying. Just came up here to see where I left my tools…" a cursory glance revealed them to be by the computers Fluffy was manning. "Ah, got'em. See ya later, Sam. Hope to meet Mikaela soon." With no apparent mind to her pregnancy, Chase slung her tool belt over her shoulder and marched for the lift.

"Do be careful, Chase; try not to overtax yourself. You're due to give birth soon," Ratchet warned. His only reply was a short, sharp laugh as the female disappeared down a looming corridor that led to her hangar.

Haellie was in no such hurry as his wife to begin his shift, taking up a vacant stool to offer Sam some friendly company. "Sorry we couldn't make it to breakfast this morning," he intoned, cocking his head apologetically. "We were in for an early ultrasound."

Sam inclined his head. "Everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, baby's healthy; it's Chase that won't give it a rest." He sighed, running his russet-toned hands through his black hair. "She's going to give me a heart-attack if she keeps going the way she is... If she's not under the hood of some engine, she's operating heavy machinery, and if she's not doing that, then she's off finding some other dangerous way to prove she's not an invalid."

Ratchet made a disapproving noise. "If you are so concerned for the wellbeing of your mate and unborn offspring, perhaps I could issue an order of strict bed-rest until she has given birth?"

"And then have me listen to her swear up and down the house until that day? No thanks, I'd rather shove a wrench up Sunstreaker's exhaust pipe and see if I live to see the next day." Haellie suddenly grinned. "But, all the same, I love her, and I _can't wait_ for the baby to be born."

"I can only imagine," Sam said, tamping down on the sting of jealousy that shot through him. Haellie was a good friend, a hard worker, and loving husband; he deserved the happiness of having a family, even in the middle of a war. Sam had no place ruining it by being jealous.

Haellie was thankfully oblivious to Sam's internal dilemma, slapping his knees to let out some excess excitement over the idea of being a father. "So, yeah, still sorry about missing this morning. Tomorrow's gathering is going to be in my kitchen, so I'll see this mysterious Mikaela Banes then, right?"

"Sounds like a plan," Sam affirmed, clapping Haellie on the bicep, only to pay for the gesture when Perceptor yanked on him as a reminder to keep still.

"Can't wait." Haellie cocked a smirk at Sam as he noticed something new about the way his friend held himself. Less stressed, more relaxed. "By the looks of things, your Mikaela girl has already been doing you some good. Working out a bit of that pent up frustration, eh?"

The sudden grin that lit Sam's features was a welcomed one. "Something like that, yeah."

A sudden sweep of scans tickled over the humans as the Cybertronians butted in to investigate the observation.

"Sensors show a drastic reduction of stress hormones," Perceptor announced. "Muscle tension is down; oxygen levels in the blood have increased above satisfactory levels."

"There are higher than normal levels of the hormones oxytocin, norepinephrine, serotonin, and vasopressin present in the bloodstream, indicative of recent sexual satisfaction," Ratchet added. "Scans of the genital area confirm ejaculation within the last hour; prolactin levels indicate this was achieved through sexual intercourse rather than masturbatory means."

There was a long drawn out silence that followed, broken only by Wheeljack snickering in the background.

Finally, Sam heaved a great sigh and peered up at Ratchet. "Have I ever mentioned how much I _love_ working with you guys?"

"Yes, you remind us all the time," Ratchet replied smartly. It had been years since the Cybertronians had learned of the many human faux pas on the planet, and while many, like Perceptor, simply regarded them as stupid and ignored them, there were some, as Ratchet, who disregarded them for the sheer pleasure of keeping up a running joke.

Haellie hooted a laugh. "It never gets old, does it?"

"Not when you humans keep things so interesting," the CMO said.

"You guys aren't exactly boring, yourselves." Squinting at the giant digital clock on the wall that was there for human benefits only, Haellie grunted and slid to his feet. "But I've been here long enough- might as well start my shift before Chase does something stupid without me." He grasped Sam's offered left hand again. "Good luck, buddy."

Sam canted his head. "For what?"

"You're going to be stuck here the rest of the day, aren't you?"

Sam took a moment to absorb the fact that he was surrounded by three Autobots who each stood as tall as a two-story house, a fourth Autobot that was considered a midget with the social graces of a rock, and two genetically altered talking animals. Not exactly the way he wanted to spend the day when he now had Mikaela Banes oh so close again.

Sam regarded Haellie with a pained look. "You got a point."


	16. Chapter 16

Been a while since I've touched this story, huh? I hope there's still love out there for it! :)

Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews last chapter! The effort, time, and kindness you each have put into your comments is not wasted on an ungrateful writer, believe me. I adore each and every one of you for your wonderful words. From the bottom of my heart, I wish to thank **FunkyFish1991, Edward-mountain-is-so-real, bigguy204, ilovenat1995, Bluebird Soaring, Onhiro, Reaper85, FireFlyFlicker, king of pop, Silveriss, Katanagirl16, micky, Caz, OnceAWildcatAlwaysAWildcat, Sutzina Zion, VisualIdentificationZeta, Kili087, .I, theshadowcat, abileabi, Lecidre, hummergrey, OMGOTH23, Mizzle fo' Rizzle**, and **Cross Phantom. **You are all inspirations in your own right. It is your reviews that inspire me to keep this story alive. It's the love you show that keeps my fingers flying~ :)

**Chapter 16**

"-you'll have to watch out for them, Mikaela. They're a tricky pair of pit spawn, and they'll only give you a headache if you stick around them too long," Ratchet asserted solemnly, his faceplate grave.

"You're _exaggerating_, Ratchet," Maggie admonished good-naturedly, and then turned to Mikaela. "He's completely exaggerating."

The CMO huffed, turning his nose up at the small gathering of female humans he was sitting with. "I most certainly am not. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are living embodiments of the plague. They have done nothing but give me strife for as long as I have known them. Mikaela would do well to stay away from them during her stay here."

Mikaela smiled amusedly around the straw she was sipping from, choosing to say nothing over the matter. Doing so was probably the wisest course of action if she remembered at all how Ratchet and his tirades could be.

Now that evening was setting, the air had cooled to a dry lukewarm, making sitting outside in wicker chairs extremely pleasurable. Her current company made the experience even more entertaining, with Maggie and Sarah curled comfortably in separate chairs they had dragged over from Maggie's place. Ratchet had been among them for the last hour, having come above ground before the evening set. After a few pleasantries, the medic had diligently begun to inform Mikaela of the troublemakers on base whom she best avoid, among them being The Twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Bumblebee rounded out their group, seemingly wanting nothing more than to sit with Mikaela and catch up. He, too, warned her of a few bots on base, but also informed her of a few humans that were not particularly his or Sam's favourites. For the most part, though, he remained a benign presence who occasionally spoke as if Mikaela were staying forever instead of temporarily.

Not that their gathering was closed off to them five. A near-constant stream of Autobots came up from underground on their break or between shift changes to introduce themselves to the curious human they knew of as Mikaela Banes. Not that Mikaela minded. Truthfully, she loved meeting all the new faces, grinning up at them, matching some names to those she'd read in Sam's books; it made her feel as a part of something, instead of like an island. However, the constant stream of interruptions did happen to grate on Ratchet's nerves, who ended up exploding at poor Bluestreak when he came to chat, who ran back underground for safety, and since then no one else had come to call.

Sarah leaned across the small gap between her own chair and Mikaela's. "You remember what Ratchet is like," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Mikaela's smile grew wider, nodding fondly even as Ratchet himself frowned. "I remember _exactly _what he's like." She took a long, happy sip from the slushy drink Sarah had mixed up for them, enjoying the sweetness of the pineapple and whatever else had been mixed in.

The sides of Sarah's eyes crinkled deeply as she smiled broadly. "Then you'll know exactly how much he loves to blow things out of proportion."

Ratchet pursed his mouthplates, not appreciating being talked about when he was sitting right there. "I do not 'blow things out of proportion. You simply do not see things my way."

"You haven't changed a bit," Mikaela said fondly.

Ratchet opened his mouthplates to say something, but Mikaela waved at him.

"Don't worry, that's not a bad thing," she assured, which promptly tamed the beast. Mikaela tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I remember Sunstreaker and Sideswipe from the books. They were troublemakers, but Sam made them seem really funny." She cocked an enquiring eyebrow up at Ratchet. "They really haven't done all the stuff to you that Sam's written, have they?"

"That and more," Ratchet sighed expansively. "What Sam has written is a watered-down, censored version of what those pit-spawn do to me and others of authority on base. They have absolutely no respect for anyone, save Optimus, and even _that_ is questionable at times."

"You're exaggerating again, Ratchet," Maggie warned playfully.

Bumblebee made a clicking noise that sounded very much like an alien giggle. "You have to admit, he's not that far off the mark. The twins have been known for millennia as terrors. They were pit-spawn even before I came online."

"Oh now who's exaggerating, Bee," Sarah admonished. "Everyone is so hard on Sideswipe and Sunstreaker for a few pranks here and there. Everyone ends up laughing at them afterwards, anyways. They've always been decent to Maggie and me."

Bumblebee's doorwings flexed in the thoughtful way Mikaela remembered he used to do. "You don't know them as well as the rest of us, _believe me_," he insisted. He had known the melee warriors long enough, thousands of years in fact, to have a good judge of their characters, unlike the human females. "Maggie is usually in her office in the human part of base, and you," he nodded to Sarah, "are usually in the greenhouses. Both places are spots that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe usually avoid on principle. Were you around in the command center while they were on shift-."

"-_Or_ in the med bay in the event they get their sorry afts dragged in-," Ratchet intoned.

"_Or that_," Bumblebee conceded ruefully. "Then you two would see two completely different mechs. Sides loves his pranks, and Sunstreaker loves himself. They don't always have a mind for humans."

Sarah and Maggie exchanged pointed looks, which obviously meant they weren't going to bother believing a word of it. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had always been decent to them and they weren't going to change their minds.

Ratchet pursed his mouthplates, aiming a stubborn look down to Mikaela. "As I've said, you would do well to stay away from them. They're not always human-friendly, and I would hate for anything to happen to you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied diplomatically, giving him a mock salute. Ratchet was still such a sweetspark, in his own gruff way. His concern really touched her.

There was a beat of silence where everyone present seemed to breathe in at the same time and let it all out in a great big rush of contented air. In the quiet offered in the pause, the sounds of the settling night came into focus- the brush of the breeze over loose red dirt, the scrape of brambles tumbling. As cliché as it was in that moment, a coyote took to singing a mournful tune in the distance, his haunting howl making the hairs on Mikaela's arms stand up. Closer to home, the door to the standalone shed that served at the humans' cleverly disguised elevator down to the Autobot's subterranean base creaked open, and suddenly Annabelle's voice rose into the night.

"_Mom?"_ she yelled.

"Sam's backyard!" Sarah called, yelling indiscriminately to the sky.

Two sets of crunching footsteps drew near, Billy appearing first with bright eyes and a wide grin. He had grease smudged across his left cheek, and the once-clean overalls he'd been dressed in that morning were now coated in dirt and black oil stains. Annabelle appeared two steps behind her brother, her uniform shirt undone and her short blond hair rumpled from a day's worth of running her fingers through it. She gave a nod of greeting to everyone.

"I made this for you, Mommy," Billy announced, shyly placing a crooked wire heart in his mother's outstretched hand. "Perceptor said he was busy with Uncle Sam's arm today, so he didn't have time to tutor me. I got to help Chase and Haellie in the hangar instead, and Haellie helped me make this."

"Oh, it's so beautiful," Sarah exclaimed, cradling her gift. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Welcome," he murmured, smiling. He then peered over at Maggie, dug into his pocket, and held out another present for her. "This one is for you." A little star was placed in her hand.

"It's very pretty, Billy. I'll hang it in my kitchen window tonight," Maggie said warmly, bending down to give the little boy a kiss on the cheek.

Scuffing his sneaker in the dirt, Billy obviously had more to deliver as he glanced to Mikaela. When she smiled, he looked down, inching over cautiously. His hand dipped into the big pocket on his front of his overalls, withdrawing a charming little copper-wire heart strung with colourful pony beads. Under Ratchet and Bumblebee's headlights, his round face was stained pink. "I didn't know what you would like, so I made you this. Haellie had to help me lots with it."

Mikaela marvelled at the craftsmanship of the heart that sat in the palm of her hand. It was definitely the kind of craft only a little kid could make, but at the same time it was one of the most wonderful pieces of art she'd ever seen.

"Aw, Billy, I love it," she breathed.

Billy grinned proudly, daring to hug Mikaela around the waist. "Good. It's my favourite. You can hang it in Uncle Sam's window if you want. He always likes it when I make him stuff."

"I'm sure he does," Mikaela said, cradling her copper-wire heart. She remember Sam's fond glance to his godson and could only guess how much he adored Billy.

"Sometimes Sam even brings your gifts with him on business trips- he even hangs them from my rear view mirror," Bumblebee intoned kindly. "He says they're for good luck."

Billy all but _glowed_ with pride at being informed that his gifts were held in such high regard by one of his heroes.

"I'll ask if I can hang it up as soon as I see him," Mikaela promised, tucking her new trinket safely away in the loose khakis she'd been lent.

Annabelle wandered closer into the circle, cocking her hip against the side of her mother's chair. "I would have made you something, too, but I doubt you'd like a smoking heap of scrap metal as a present," she joked, inclining her head towards her weapon of choice still slung to her back, which she obviously had been training with the majority of the day.

"I think I'll pass on the smoking heaps of scrap metal for now," Mikaela laughed.

Shrugging, the weapon-wielding teen looked to her mother. "What's for dinner tonight?"

"Whatever's in the fridge, hon," Sarah informed apologetically. "I've been so busy showing Mikaela around that I didn't get a chance to marinate the steaks."

Another nonchalant shrug, and then Annabelle adjusted the shoulder-strap of her gun, easing the weight on her tired shoulder. "That's fine. Leftovers are still good." She slanted her eyes over to her brother. "Come on, Billy- we're fending for ourselves tonight."

Billy wrinkled his nose. "You're not gonna try to shoot jackrabbits again to eat, are you?"

Annabelle turned a little pink in the cheeks. "No, I'm not going to try shooting rabbits again, you little smarty pants."

This was obviously good news to the younger boy. "Good, 'cause then I _know_ we'd be starving 'til mom came home."

"Keep talking, kid. I'll weggie you so bad your underwear will come out your ears," Annabelle warned, making a snatch for Billy. Billy danced out of reach, scooting behind Mikaela's chair for cover. "Don't let her do it to me!" he begging of Mikaela. "She hung me on a doorknob last time!"

Ratchet eased a hand down between the siblings. "No one is going to weggie anyone," he announced, successfully diffusing the situation with the right amount of irritation and authority. "Both of you head on home." He peered down specifically at Billy. "And you, young man, may want to hurry. You're favourite show is coming on."

"_Go-Bots!"_ Billy cheered delightedly, jumping up and dashing past his sister towards the next dusty looking farmhouse across the way. Annabelle watched him go for a second, sighed, shook her head, and then followed after him at a much slower pace.

"Run while you can, midget! Ratchet won't be around to save you as soon as we get in the house!" she yelled after him, only to make her brother run faster.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Mikaela took out her copper-wire craft again and examined its details under Bumblebee's headlights. It really was an impressive piece of art, especially the artsy coil of wire around the edges.

"He could be an artist when he grows up if he keeps this up," she intoned.

Sarah smiled fondly, if not a little sadly. "He's got a really sweet heart, and he loves crafts, but he wants to be just like his daddy, and his Uncle Sam, and everyone else on base."

"A soldier?" Mikaela asked, her smile fading a little.

Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, a _superhero._" That garnered a bit of laughter from everyone.

"Don't all little boys want to be superheroes when they grow up?" Mikaela asked playfully. "It's just a phase, isn't it?

"Oh yes, they do, but I'm pretty sure this isn't just a phase, not when he's surrounded by soldiers saving the world all the time. It took him years to understand that he couldn't grow up to be a robot that transformed into a car." Sarah sent a pointed glance upwards, which was enough to embarrass their Cybertronian company. "Billy will probably end up in the same boat Annabelle did. She was a soldier from the moment Ironhide got the bright idea to train her."

"I wondered what happened to the little two-year-old girl I remember bouncing around in pink and frills," Mikaela said lightly.

Bumblebee made a soft noise. "She was doomed from the moment Ironhide decided he wanted her as his apprentice," he said. "She's been tutored under Perceptor for most of her life, and then after classes, Ironhide stole her away for target practice. We were worried about her developing anti-social tendencies by being so isolated on base, but she's developed into a relatively normal human specimen, has she not?"

"The keyword there, Bee, is 'relatively normal'," Maggie laughed. "Not many kids her age know advanced metaphysics by heart or can wield a rifle like most teens wield a cell phone."

Bumblebee shrugged, unable to refute such claims.

Mikaela quirked an eyebrow at Sarah, asking, "And you were okay with your little girl being whisked off by Ironhide to learn to shoot? The mech's got bigger guns than all us girls combined."

Sarah sucked up the last of her drink, shrugging nonchalantly. "If you remember Ironhide at all, you'd know he's the _last_ mech who'd to let anything happen to anyone. I knew my little Annie was going to be safer with him than with anyone else, so I let her go. She was happy learning to shoot, and I was happy that she was happy."

"And Will?" Mikaela enquired.

"He learned to live it."

They all giggled wryly.

"She's an exceptional markswoman now, aside from shooting jackrabbits," Ratchet intoned. "Ironhide is rather pleased with her, being that she is his first alien apprentice."

Mikaela was thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "She's just so… grown-up now. It's hard to believe so much has changed."

Sarah snorted. "She can still be a troublemaker, don't worry about that. You should have seen her the day she came in with a Mohawk."

Mikaela's eyebrows shot up. _"A Mohawk?"_

Sarah nodded. "I lie to you not- she marched in one day, head all shaved, and announced that she did it to look like the Autobots' cranial crests."

Mikaela's gaze darted up to Ratchet and Bumblebee, who were shaking their heads, and then she looked back at Sarah. "That's just…wow. There are no words for something like that. She really did it to look like them?"

"No, not really. We all know she really did it to set her father off, which it did." Now Sarah laughed. "I'm just glad that nasty thing has finally grown out."

Maggie leaned over to Mikaela, eyes glittering. "Will spent half the night over my place ranting to Bobby about it. Honestly, you'd think the poor girl joined a cult by the way he was going on."

"I'd imagine," Mikaela giggled, remembering how much of an overprotective father Will could be for his one-and-only itty-bitty precious little Annabelle. "God forbid anyone who messes with Will's only daughter."

"You don't even know the half of it," Maggie said, looking more than eager to inform her. "He wouldn't even talk to Chase for a week after he found out she'd been the one to help shave Annie's head."

"Who's Chase?" Mikaela asked, still giggling. She had been introduced to so many faces throughout the day that they were all a blur by now.

"She's one of the engineers on base. Haellie, the guy who helped Billy make that heart for you, is her husband," Maggie informed, and then leaned back in her seat and waved to a house beyond Mikaela's line of sight. "They live on base over there, but you'll meet them tomorrow morning."

Mikaela nodded, rolling her now-empty glass between her sore palms. The coolness of the touch helped. "I'm going to see pictures of Annabelle's Mohawk before I leave, right? That's something I gotta see."

Promptly, a hologram appeared not far in front of her, supplied by Bumblebee. A replica of Annabelle with a foot-tall blond fringe standing straight up from her head stood there, revolving slowly. She was smiling and laughing silently.

"Oh, dear god…" Mikaela covered her mouth to hide the insane smile that crossed it, but it did nothing to muffle her snort. How much hairspray had to be wasted to get that much hair to stand up straight?

Sarah cringed, inspecting the hologram. "I know, it was bad."

"And yet she _did_ managed to make it look like some of our cranial crests," Bumblebee intoned thoughtfully. The hologram adjusted to showcase a few of the different creative designs Annabelle did with her hair. A few of them really did look like close approximations to some of the bots' crests.

The slideshow made everyone laugh. It felt good to laugh, so when a pause came and everyone glanced at each other, they all ended up laughing again for no reason. Bumblebee chirped, straightening as he received a transmission. Annabelle's hologram guttered out. The smile on the scout's faceplate was brilliant.

"They're on their way up now," he announced.

"Who?" Mikaela asked, still smiling.

"The men," Maggie answered with a roll of her eyes. "Took them long enough. Figures they'd wait for Sam before showing their faces. You'd think they could at least give us a heads up a few hours ago to say it was going to be this long, but nooooooo." She shook her head.

"Perceptor is a perfectionist of the highest order. It's no surprise he kept Sam for this long to complete his arm," Ratchet said, which was a bit rich coming from him. He was the poster bot for Type A personality perfectionist when it came to repairs.

"We should count ourselves lucky it didn't take longer," Bumblebee intoned. From experience, he knew of Sam's irritability after being cooped up for too long in Perceptor's company. It was not a pleasant thing.

True to Bumblebee's announcement, it was not long before the men came above ground. The shed Annabelle and Billy had come out of rattled anew as the elevator came to rest. Rowdy laughter lit the night; a shoving match in the doorway as too many eager bodies attempted to fit through a single small door. More laughter followed as the inevitable winner gloated over the loser. Someone cursed in Russian, and then Sam's unmistakable voice replied- as well in Russian- in a tone that announced he was the winner of the match.

Sarah and Maggie rose from their seats, groaning as they stretched.

"Might as well go now," Sarah sighed. "Will whines worse than the kids do if he doesn't get dinner."

"We might as well go, too," Ratchet intoned as he eased to his feet. "I have inventory that needs filing, and I'm sure Bumblebee has something to do." Sensing Ratchet's pointed stare, Bumblebee made an embarrassed coughing noise and jumped to his feet.

"Uh, yeah, I have plenty to do…" the scout intoned awkwardly.

"That settles it then. We'll leave you to settle in proper for the night," Sarah said, smiling for Mikaela. "See you tomorrow morning at the Hendrix's." She hugged the other woman before Mikaela could get a word in edgewise.

"Why the Hendrix's?" Mikaela wondered as she leaned away, arms already open to bid goodnight to Maggie.

"Breakfast is the only time of day us humans get to gather and see each other, so that's what we do in the mornings. The rest of the day, we're all over the place. We'd never get to see each other otherwise," Maggie informed, kissing Mikaela's cheek. "We'll see you bright and early, and then we'll head off to the Vautz's to collect your stuff."

Mikaela's smile faltered for a moment. "Right."

Maggie nodded, starting to wander in the direction the men's voices were drifting from. "Don't forget to call them so they know you're coming."

Mikaela's smile sputtered out, though Sarah and Maggie missed it as they disappeared around the corner of Sam's house. Warm exclamations of greeting lit the night. There was also a glum complaint, this time in English, followed by someone defending their title as shoving-match champion.

Bumblebee and Ratchet happened to see Mikaela's face drop in the interim. Bumblebee kneeled, extending a gentle finger to rub along Mikaela's back in comfort. He didn't say anything, and neither did Ratchet. The scout's finger was still warm from the sun, his touch so sweet. Mikaela took comfort, leaning back into the offered fingertip, and then turning around to rub her cheek to it, kissing him lightly.

At that moment, she felt a familiar presence come up behind her. A pair of arms wrapped around her middle. She looked down, noting that Sam's right arm was fully restored to its former glory; it looked immaculate, every detail precisely placed. His breath was warm as it tickled the side of her neck as he burrowed his face into the hollow, taking a deep breath.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly. He didn't need to see her face to note her slumped shoulders. He could practically feel that something was off.

"No, but I guess that's a default for my life," Mikaela replied. It was lame joke. Sam didn't laugh.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. He would have rather countered that her life didn't suck all that bad, but currently there wasn't much evidence to support it. Instead, he asked, "Do you want me to get rid of the others now? It's fine if you're not up for dealing with more."

"I can deal with them just fine," Mikaela assured while attempting to step out of Sam's embrace. It didn't work so well. Now that she was in his arms, he didn't want to let go. "Sam, I said I can deal."

"Yeah, I heard you. I'm just gonna be your backup," he informed, turning them both to the new additions standing in his backyard. Viktor was closest, gracing them with a half-smile as he stepped forward and stooped for Mikaela's hands, proceeding to inspect them.

"She is healing quite nicely," Ratchet intoned to the doctor. "Her own biological processes are taking care of it efficiently enough. There is no evidence of infection anywhere."

"Very impressive," Viktor commented. His dark gaze met hers. "Thankfully, there shall be no need of grafting or amputation." Delivered in such a straight-faced way, the joke was almost lost on her. When Mikaela did laugh, it was only a quiet giggle. That seemed enough for the doctor, since he smiled handsomely in return. "Would you mind if I lifted your shirt?" he asked.

Mikaela's eyebrows shot up. "Not on the first date," she joked.

Sam's arms tightened drastically around her middle, a possessive scowl taking hold of his face. "Not ever," he stated flatly.

"I meant to check the other wounds," Viktor elaborated, though clearly enjoying the misunderstanding. It was his small revenge for losing to Sam earlier.

"I can check them," Sam said.

"You are not a qualified doctor," Viktor pointed out.

"No, but I know what it looks like when someone's dying." He spun Mikaela around, held her at arm's length, and looked her up and down. "She doesn't look like she's dying to me." He brought her back into his embrace before she could break away. Her back was tucked to his chest, his chin perched comfortably on her shoulder.

"Perhaps not on the outside, but what of her insides? I should take a closer look to be sure." The doctor leaned in, only to have Sam lean away. Mikaela growled as she was stretched in the same direction, caught up in a game of tug she definitely wanted no part of. Someone was chuckling in the background- probably Will or Epps.

"Didn't he treat me when I got here last night?" Mikaela groaned, wriggling uselessly against Sam's hold. "I think that makes him qualified to look at me, Sam. Stop being a jerk."

His mechanical arm cinched tighter, ensuring that there was absolutely zero chance of escape and zero chance that Viktor could peel up her shirt.

"You were hurt and unconscious last night- you needed to be treated. Now you're conscious and all vulnerable to Ashkroft's Russian accent and dangerous charms." He sighed dramatically, rubbing his cheek to hers. "You'll be helpless to him, and then I'll have to get jealous. I don't want to have to kill my friend because he looked at you." He would have asserted '_you're mine' _as well,but that would have probably gotten him a punt in the balls.

"I am hurt, Witwicky," Viktor replied, placing a hand to his heart. "I am nothing but a doctor seeing to his patients. Negligence is unacceptable."

"It's acceptable in this case. I'm going to overrule you with the family doctor." Sam looked up- _way up_- and met Ratchet's amused stare. "Scan Mikaela and tell Viktor he can go away now."

Blue light flashed briefly, and then Ratchet looked at Viktor. "You can go away now," he stated with no shortage of humour.

"Very well," Viktor said, stepping back. "This round is yours, Witwicky. You will not be so lucky next time." With a firm nod to Mikaela, who still struggled in vain to get out from Sam's steel embrace, he swept away for his own house, which was disguised as a small hovel a few hundred yards away.

Will and Epps were quick to bid their goodnights, not even able to hug the woman as Sam continued to impersonate an octopus. It was slightly pathetic, but his behaviour didn't seem to surprise any of the humans or Autobots. In fact, it was almost as if they had been expecting it. The moment everyone was gone, Mikaela rammed her elbow into one of Sam's bruises, leaping away when his arms loosened.

"I'm not a piece of meat you can just salivate over," she said, playfully warning him away with a pointed finger. "Just because I'm here doesn't mean you're allowed to get all jealous and shit."

"I know that," Sam laughed, reaching out to snag her arm, hoping to drag her back. She spun away, one brow quirked at him.

"Oh? Then what was that with Viktor?" she asked haughtily. "He was only trying to do his job and you were-." She waved a hand through the air try to come up with the right words. "You were acting like such a guy!"

"That was…" he reached for her again, only to be thwarted. He growled playfully. If he really wanted to catch her, he could. For now, he was enjoying the game. The anticipation of catching her made it worth it. "That was guy-talk. We were totally just playing each other."

"Really? Because I could have sworn it was you marking your territory," Mikaela teased, dancing closer to the backdoor, always out of reach.

"That too," Sam conceded, grinning as he feinted left and darted right. Mikaela squealed as his hands brushed along her waist before she spun away. She laughed when he leapt again, catching her up in his arms and backing her into the backdoor. He was gentle enough not to jostle her bruises, but firm enough to keep her right where he wanted her. "There's nothing wrong with a bit of manly chest-beating, now is there?"

Mikaela rolled her eyes. There was no escaping the sarcasm in her voice when she replied, "Oh, no, there's _nothing_ wrong with that."

Sam smiled superiorly. "Just so long as Ashkroft knows you're not free for the taking."

"I'm not free for anyone's taking, Sam," she said. A small frown pursed her lips. "I'm leaving as soon as possible, remember? I'm not even yours." Though it broke her heart to say so out loud. The hurt she saw reflected in Sam's eyes hurt her even more.

Sam's playfulness faded on a heavy sigh, his face dipping to the crook of her neck again. It was so plainly obvious that he relished in the sweet warmth radiating there. The feel of her so close did funny things to him. Not just obvious things. It made him feel relaxed. Content. He loved the feeling of belonging when he was with her.

"Can't you be mine for now?" he asked quietly.

"Sam…"

"_Please_," he murmured, sincere enough to melt Mikaela's heart.

There were so many things she already regretted, what was another sin to add to the tragedy? Her lips lifted to the corner of Sam's mouth, brushing a chaste kiss there.

"Fine," she relented. "I'll be yours for now."

By the smile lighting up his face, you would have thought someone told him the Decepticons were finally banished from the planet. For Sam, the victory was just as sweet. Mikaela was his. For now. That meant he was one step closer to her being his forever_._ To celebrate, he kissed her. Chaste at first, though spiced by boyish excitement; it was as if the solemn moment was all but forgotten. Their exchange became sweetly sensuous as Sam's hands slid along her sides, wide palms roving over worn cotton, tickling sensitized flesh. The pads of his thumbs brushed along the underside of her breasts, causing a shiver to run through Mikaela.

"You just made my night," Sam murmured against her mouth, still grinning. Honestly, she probably just made his entire year, if not his life.

They were too close for Mikaela to see his lips curved up, but she saw it reflected in his eyes, and felt the taste of his ridiculous happiness against her tongue. Did he have to be so darn cute without even trying?

"Glad I could be of service," she said wryly.

Sam kissed her again. "There another kind of service I wouldn't mind getting into tonight," he said. His body caged her to the door, pressing close. Evidence of his arousal prodded at Mikaela's belly.

"You're certainly energetic for the end of the day," Mikaela mused, only to have Sam's mouth descend to hers again. He swiped his tongue along her lush bottom lip, only to pull away teasingly when she opened to him. He chuckled when she groaned. Then he tickled her, which she whined at, trying to escape. "See? Way too much energy for the end of the day."

"I've been trapped on a very uncomfortable stool for the last 8 hours with only Percy, Fluffy, and Barnaby for company. You don't know the meaning of cabin fever until you've endured that."

"Poor baby," Mikaela offered, albeit mockingly.

"Yes, poor me," Sam pouted, his hands dancing along her ribcage. He plucked at the hem of her shirt, sweeping the pads of his fingers over bare skin. He had so much energy now it felt like his skin would crawl off. "Make me feel better, will you? I'm sure the two of us can figure out a way to burn off all my excess energy, can't we?"

Mikaela groaned, half exasperation/ half enjoyment as Sam kneaded at her lower back. The heat of his hands was both soothing and arousing. "Stop that!" she whined, half-heartedly smacking him. "We're still outside! Everyone can see us!" If he didn't stop, she'd probably throw him down into one of the chairs and have her way with him. While her body said 'Yes!' her brain reminded her that putting on an exhibition for the neighbours was probably not the best way to make a good impression.

"So?" Clearly, Sam was not opposed to backyard entertainment.

"You are such an exhibitionist," she admonished, pouting. "This is just as bad as being on that elevator at the hotel. Have a little dignity, will you?"

"Okay, okay, inside it is," Sam invited. He hitched her against his thigh with one arm as he pushed open the backdoor with the other. They were a jumble of limbs as he crowded her in, only making it a short ways before a lopsided carpet caught around their feet and sent them to the floor. Mikaela yelped in surprise. Sam gave a brief shout. They went down like a pair of rocks.

"Remind me not to do that again," Mikaela groaned. She received the worst end of the deal, first landing on the floor, and then having Sam tumble on top of her. Nothing felt broken, but she did distinctly feel flatter. "Hardwood floors hurt."

"Sorry, my bad," Sam apologized, levering up on one arm. "Anything broken?"

"My pride and possibly my tailbone," Mikaela replied, scooting out from under Sam's weight. She winced as her weight braced against her palms. "The mood is dead, too."

Sam glared down at the carpet rumpled beneath him. "This is your fault," he accused.

Mikaela shook her head, smoothing Sam's hair back from his face. "How do you go from being so sexy one minute to being a totally goof the next?"

Sam grinned up at her, tilting his chin to catch one last kiss. "Practice," he informed with a cheeky smile.

"You're hopeless," she sighed with a shake of her head. "Cute, but completely hopeless." Easing to her feet, she offered him a hand, which he took. Once standing, he rolled both shoulders, grimacing as something cracked into place in the shoulder he dislocated in Barricade's attack.

"I'm also hungry. Perceptor didn't allow me to eat while I was with him." He slanted Mikaela a humoured look. "He's hardcore like that."

"Yeah, real hardcore, like a Nazi-alien or something." Mikaela shoved him in the direction of the kitchen. "Go find something to eat if you're so hungry. While you're at it, mind if I make a call?"

"Go right ahead. You can use the phone in my office if you want, for privacy." Sam waved her to a half-closed door she hadn't noticed before. He had a feeling of who she intended to call and knew that a certain amount of privacy would be a godsend for her. "Everything's encrypted, so you don't have to worry about Decepticon's tracing it, plus I get free long-distance."

"Thanks. I don't know how long I'll be, so don't wait up."

"You know I will anyways." Seeing the brief shadow in her eyes, he grasped her hand to give it a comforting squeeze. "If you need anything, just come find me. The house isn't that big."

Mikaela smiled mutedly, nodding. "I'm… going to go make that call now."

She backed away for the office door as Sam made his way to the kitchen to fulfill other basic needs. Slipping into the room, Mikaela felt along the wall for the light switch. Once on, the room was revealed to be of average size, with a sizeable window set into one of the walls. An efficient metal-and-glass desk took up one corner, surround by bookshelves and cabinets of the same kind of design. The modern furniture clashed horribly with the old school comfort Sam's house exuded, but a homey feel was given to the office set up through the hapless way everything looked thrown together. The desk was rather neat, but still with pens and sticky notes stuck everywhere. Books competed for space on the bookshelf with prizes of all sorts, ranging from stolen Decepticon shrapnel from battle to pictures of friends and family. Stuck to a metal filing cabinet were several of Billy's art projects, each fixed with a magnet to stick in place and show off to all who came in.

The phone was not hard to find, sitting in the corner of Sam's desk. It was a many-buttoned contraption you'd be more likely to find on a secretary's desk than anywhere else, except that this phone had the unmistakable touch of alien tech amping it up. Some of the direct lines included _Command Center_, _Med Bay, Security_, and a direct connection to Optimus Prime. Picking up the receiver, Mikaela stared at her options for a bit before asking loudly-

"_Do I have to dial out?" _

"_No, just dial the number!" _Sam shouted back, and then went back to rummaging through his fridge.

Rolling her eyes for having to ask such a stupid question, Mikaela dialled the number for the Vautzs. Pulling out Sam's computer chair, she settled into the soft cushions and waited. Her free hand tapped on the desk ledge, revealing that she was nervous as all get out. What was she supposed to say? Gloria and Oscar were practically _family_, but because of this stupid mess she was mixed up in again, she might have to say goodbye to them forever. Each ring brought her closer and closer to the moment she had to say goodbye. Her heart just about stopped when the line picked up.

"_Hello?" _

Mikaela swallowed the thick lump in her throat that suddenly welled up. "Gloria?"

A startled gasp sounded, and then a quickly muttered _'thank you, Lord!' _followed, before the mouthpiece was covered and Gloria was shouting into the house, _"Oscar! Oscar, it's Mikaela on the phone! She's alive!" _

Unfallen tears stung Mikaela's eyes as she listened to the commotion on the other line. Gloria uncovered the mouthpiece, her voice breathless and shaking as she spoke.

"_Blessed baby Jesus, girl, we thought you were dead!" _she exclaimed, sounding on the verge of tears herself. The mere thought of making the old woman cry was enough to put Mikaela over the edge. A smothered sob left her as she wiped at her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I should have called sooner-."

The other phone in the Vautzs' house was picked up, Oscar's voice crowing over the line-

"_Lil' Mick, I thought you was nothin' but scrap an' ash!" _

"No, no, I'm alive, Oscar," Mikaela quickly said over the old man's exclamations. "I'm so sorry I made you worry!"

"_Worry? Girlie, ya just about put me in an early grave," _Oscar said.

"_Oscar, hush!" _Gloria reprimanded sharply.

Mikaela bowed her head, sinking deeper into her chair. "It's okay, Gloria. I know I must have scared you both."

"_Oh, you did, sweetie. You scared us something bad, but now that we know you're safe and sound… well, it's a load off our shoulders."_ Gloria paused. A chair scraped out from under the table, and then she sat. _"You are safe and sound, right? That Sam fellow didn't hurt you, did he…?" _

Mikaela squeezed her eyes shut, assaulted with the scene of Sam putting his life on the line to protect her. "God no, he didn't hurt me," she said lowly. "Why would you think that?" She paused a beat, and then asked, "Why did you think I was dead?"

"_M'dear, it was like coming upon a massacre!"_ Oscar exclaimed. _"I went out this morning to do me rounds and happened to come upon somethin' that looked like it came right out of a war movie. Road all shot up, potholes everywhere. An' guess what I saw in the middle of it all? Yer truck, m'dear- ripped ta hell an' back, it looked like. My heart just about stopped tickin'!" _

"I am so, so sorry, Oscar," Mikaela said, one hand covering her mouth in horror. She could only imagine what had gone through his mind in that moment.

"_Don't be sorry, Mickey. You're alive, an' that's what counts. I just can't figure out what could'a done that to yer truck!" _

For a split moment, Mikaela had the wild urge to tell them everything. She could easily divulge every little thing about her life sixteen years ago and how it caught up with her yesterday. But that would be a burden she didn't want to lay at the Vautzs' feet.

"I can't tell you what happened…" she murmured, feeling a tear slide down her cheek.

As if sensing Mikaela's tears, Gloria quickly piped in. _"Sweetheart, you don't have explain anything, not if you can't or don't want to." _

"You would never believe me, even if I told you." Knuckles rubbed ruthlessly at her eyes, trying to scrub away tears.

"_What about Sam? Is he alright? He wasn't hurt in the accident, or whatever it was, was he?"_ Gloria enquired.

"He's fine. I'm at his place right now, actually. The people here… I know them. They're keeping me safe, for now."

There was a long pause, and then Gloria dared to ask, "_Are you in some kind of trouble, honey?"_

Mikaela nodded, even if they couldn't see. "You could say that. It's part of the reason I'm calling." Trying to suck in some strength, all she ended up doing was creating a pathetic sobbing noise.

"_Whatever trouble yer in, Mickey, we'll help you,"_ Oscar intoned.

That only made Mikaela sob more, blinking away fat tears as they welled. "No, you can't. The kind of trouble I'm in… I have to hide. Go into hiding, I mean. My friends here, they're going to help me, but-."

"_But you need to collect your things?_" Gloria asked weakly.

"Yes."

"_Yer goin' into a witness protection program?"_ Oscar wondered.

"It'd be something like that."

Gloria sighed shakily. "_When you come tomorrow, you'll be saying your goodbyes too, won't you? We won't see you again."_

Mikaela was nodding again, tears freely tracking down her cheeks. The phone was starting to hurt her ear from how hard she was pressing it there. Every breath shook. God, her chest hurt- her heart hurt. A headache was starting to form between her stinging eyes. "Yeah, I have to say goodbye. I don't know if I'll ever be able to see you guys again. There's just too much of a risk… I don't want you two getting hurt because of me."

The phone was solemnly silent on the Vautzs' end, while Mikaela choked on a few broken sobs. Gloria once again was the one to break the silence.

"_You do what you have to in order to stay safe, sweetheart_," she said. _"We'll be here for you when you come tomorrow."_

"_Whatever kind of trouble yer in, Mickey, just know that we love you,"_ Oscar intoned quietly.

"I love you, too," Mikaela sobbed, clutching the phone. Her knees drew up to her chest, tucking close to herself. "I love you two so much!"

_"We'll see you tomorrow, sweetie. Take care of yourself,_" Gloria said. The line went dead.

Mikaela pulled the phone away, staring at it for a long moment. Its continued silence mocked her. The dam broke and she ended up smashing it back into the cradle, wrapping her arms around her legs, and laying her head down to sob. Now everything hurt. Her head, her chest, her heart- _everything_. Her life had been looking up ever since she came to live with Gloria and Oscar, and now all of that was being ripped away. Damn it, what did God have against her happiness? Did she just win the lottery in the fucked-up universal luck department? For once, she wished things could just work out nicely for her. But what was the point of wishing anymore? Things like that were never going to happen.

Drawn by Mikaela's muffled cries, Sam leaned into his office concernedly. What he saw broke his heart. He stepped inside, one of the floor boards creaking under his feet. Mikaela's head shot up so fast Sam was instantly frozen to the spot. She stared at him wild-eyed for a few long seconds, then her bottom lip trembled and she was crying again. Her eyes were wet and red, her cheeks ruddy and shiny with tears.

"Mickey…" he eased forward, kneeling by the chair. He smoothed a hand over her hair, down the back of her head. He wasn't prepared for when her arms shot out, curling around his neck. She kicked the chair away so she was on the floor with him, hugging him so tight that black spots appeared in his vision. Knowing she just wanted to be held, Sam brought his arms around her. He stood with her still against him, letting her legs wrap around his waist. He adjusted her weight, his right arm tucked beneath her bottom to support her while his left soothed down her spine. The neck of his shirt quickly became damp. He rocked her like that until her sobbing died to sniffling, her whole body leaning into his out of sheer exhaustion. A tremor still passed through her every now and again.

"Come on, sweetheart," Sam sighed as soon as he felt it was right to move. He turned for the open door. "I think it's time to go to bed. You've had a long day, and and even longer one ahead of you."

Not even wanting to try for words, Mikaela nodded into the crook of Sam's neck and let herself be carried away.


	17. Chapter 17

**Leoshunny1985**- Thank so much~ You're too kind. ^_^

**Vaapad**- Thanks! That means a lot! =)

**Hummergrey**- Yeah, last chapter was pretty loaded, wasn't it? This one isn't going to fair too well either, I fear. It's usually darkest before the dawn, though. Mikaela's sun will come out sooner or later. ^^

**Theo3983**- Thank you so much! That means a lot! The story has been heavy on the angst, but good times are ahead, I swear! :)

**Spedclass**- Thanks so much! ^_^

**Ilovenat1995**- You're too kind~ Billy is such a sweetheart. I'm happy that you enjoyed the chapter. =)

**Katanagirl16**- Aww, thanks so much~ Sam and Ratchet were so much fun to write! ^_^

**Bigguy204**- lol~ Yes, it's the unexpected presents that tend to be enjoyed the most. I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter- it was a pleasure to write. :) Going through the spectrum of emotions is always interesting, especially when doing so in the same chapter.

**Lecidre**- Oh, I'm sorry I almost made you cry with the chapter, hon! *hugs* Poor Mikaela is going through a rollercoaster worth of emotions and you got swept away for the ride, huh? I'm glad that the other characters, like Ratchet and Bumblebee, Annabelle and Billy, all offered some levity to brighten the situation a bit. Hopefully Mikaela's life will brighten soon. :)

**Caz**- lol~ Ratchet was such a pleasure to write. The contrast he offers to the humans is so funny! XD And Mikaela much appreciates the supporting hugs you sent her way. She can take as many as she can get right now.

**FunkyFish1991**- You never cease to amaze me with your reviews, be they long or short- they always manage to impress me in some way with their insight. I really was aiming for a homey feeling for the first half of the chapter- it's a feeling that I want Mikaela to be exposed to, so she gets the taste, and figures out she can have that all the time. What better way to say 'this is your new home now' than to re-educate her to the dangers of living on an alien base and integrating her into family life as if she hadn't been missing for 16 years? 8D Sadly, Mikaela is stubborn and she's scared. It'll take a bit more than a night of family-time and Ratchet nagging in her ear to make her want to stay. Hopefully she'll learn that you have to risk a little to gain a lot. ^_^

**Bluebird Soaring**- Yeah, she's getting the short end of the stick. . Unfortunately, that's just the hand that life's dealt her. She's a strong girl. She'll get through it. Thanks so much for reviewing! *hugs*

**Chapter 17 **

Sam woke at the crack of dawn, the time his body was programmed to rise at when he was in such close proximity to base. It was automatic. It was also annoying when he wanted to have a lie in.

He nearly summed up the will to drag himself from the bed when he was reminded of his company by a set of hands curling tighter into his shirt in response to his movement. Looking down, he found Mikaela draped over his chest, her arms curled beneath her and her legs drooping to the sides under the sheets. As he leaned back into the pillow to get a better glimpse of her face, he noted the downward curve of her lips and the salty residue clinging to her eyelashes. He sighed as he remembered carrying her up the night prior, pulling down the sheets for her and laying her out. When he had risen to go down the hall to his spare bedroom, her hands had locked in the hem of his shirt. She didn't need to say the words for Sam to know she didn't want to be alone, thus explaining his waking up in his own bed with the world's most beautiful woman on top of him.

Sighing again, Sam glanced at the clock to the side of his bed. The usual breakfast brawl wasn't for another half hour or so, and even then, it wasn't obligatory for them to show up. He settled a little more comfortably into the mattress and prepared to go back to sleep. He was loath to waking Mikaela when it looked like she could use the extra sleep. Poor thing looked ragged, and it wasn't just the remnants of battle-won bruises that made her so. Her exchange with the Vautzs had zapped her internally, made her seem wilted. It hurt to know that she was hurting so much and there was little, if anything, he could do for her.

A familiar set of footsteps drifted in through the open balcony doors, followed by a flash of yellow armour. Bumblebee curiously peered in. Spotting that Mikaela was still asleep, he canted his head, looking concerned.

"How is she?" he asked quietly.

Sam shook his head, frowning. "Miserable."

Bumblebee visibly deflated. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"So am I." He raised a hand to Mikaela's hair, stroking the silken tangles. She murmured something quiet in her sleep, but thankfully didn't rouse. "I don't know what to do for her, Bee. I want to do something, but…" He laid a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. "I can't think of anything."

The Autobot's optics glowed in the dim dawn lighting, a sad smile curving his alien face. "Just do what you're doing, I suppose," he said.

"What?"

"Loving her."

Sam sucked in a breath of surprise.

Bumblebee chuckled. "I know you better than anyone, my friend. I know what it looks like when you're in love."

"You've only seen me in love once," Sam chided.

"Once was enough," the scout said. "Especially since the way you look at her hasn't changed."

Sam's eyes softened, sighing. "I've always loved her."

"I figured as much," Bumblebee intoned softly, warmly.

"I just don't know if love will be enough," Sam sighed, looking down at the sleeping body laying across him. "So far, it hasn't exactly been winning any prizes. Her life is upside down because of me. The longer she's around me, the worse it gets." He looked to his friend. "You think it's some kind of sign?"

Bumblebee shook his head. "I think it's a sign that you're together again."

"A sign _you_ orchestrated," he pointed out flatly.

The scout shrugged guiltlessly. "I tend to think of it as giving fate a hand. Regardless of that, she's here now and it's obvious that you need each other. You _deserve_ each other."

"And everything that's been getting in the way?"

Bumblebee waved a dismissive hand. "Bad luck, that's all. What you need to show her is that _this_ could be her home; _we _could be her family again. Everyone here is willing to help show her that."

"Did you come here just to tell me that?" Sam asked, smirking.

"Something to that effect," Bumblebee admitted. "You know that many of us haven't seen our loved ones in a very long time, Sam. I haven't seen my Arcee in eons. Seeing you find happiness eases the sting a bit."

Sam nodded. "Tell everyone thanks. And that ship is going to come in soon, Bee. When it does, you'll see Arcee again."

The Autobot shrugged. "All I can do is hope. In the meantime, getting Mikaela to realize she can be happy here is what counts. You two are the first humans I truly got to know on this planet. It seems only fitting that you be together."

"It's all up to her," Sam murmured. "I just hope nothing more happens to her while she's here. I don't know how much more she can take."

The horns atop Bumblebee's head, as well as the doorwings on his back, drooped. "Yes, of course." He took in Mikaela's prone figure, gauging how exhausted she looked. "Would you like me to tell the others you won't be joining them this morning?"

"No, don't," Mikaela mumbled, catching the tale end of the question as she roused from sleep. "We'll be there."

Bumblebee's optics flashed as he shifted his weight. "Are you sure? Don't feel pressured to do anything you have no spark for, Mickey- everyone will understand if you don't feel up to joining them."

Sam nuzzled the side of her head gently, reminding her that he had served as her literal body-pillow through the night. "There's enough food in the house for us to scrounge up a proper meal. We don't have to go anywhere."

Mikaela dragged herself into a sitting position, finding Sam following her up to loop his arms loosely around her. A minor ache throbbed between her eyes, so she took comfort in the warmth radiating from Sam's body, leaning her weight into the steady wall of muscle. The arms clasped around her tightened by a bare degree.

"Thanks for the offers, guys, but I think it's best if I just suck it up and go." She rubbed at her eyes to scrape away the crusts of salt sticking to her eyelashes. "Sarah and Maggie were nice enough to take me around yesterday, lend me some clothes- the least I could do is show my face before we go."

"If you're sure," Bumblebee said, nodding. "I'll let the others know to expect you. They weren't sure how you would be feeling after calling the Vautzs' last night." With a wonderful alien melody lighting the dawn, Bumblebee collapsed into his alt mode. Mikaela and Sam listened as his engine grew muffled by distance as he drove to wherever his destination was.

"Shower," Mikaela announced decidedly, scooting to her feet. Sam began to rise behind her until she fixed him with a hard gaze. _"Alone."_

Clearing his throat, he nodded to the door. "There's another shower downstairs. I'll use that one." Without another word, he slunk off, leaving Mikaela with her privacy.

She was quick with her business- or as quick as she could be while still fumbling with her scabbed palms. It didn't hurt as bad as it did the day before, but she wasn't about to be doing cartwheels anytime soon. Pulling on a blouse from Maggie and cinching a pair of Sarah's cropped jeans with a belt, she headed down stairs to find Sam waiting for her in the living room. He was scrubbed, shaved, and dressed in an appropriate uniform for work.

When he came to stand by her at the door, Mikaela went up on her tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth.

"Thanks for last night," she murmured when she saw a question brewing in his eyes. _'Thanks for just being there for me. I really needed it.' _

"No problem." He took her hand in his, brushing the pad of his thumb along her sensitive palm. _'Anytime.' _

They stepped out together, Sam pointing Mikaela in the vague direction of a barn set off on its own little island of dirt like all the buildings were. Mikaela let her gaze wander over the rich shades of red, gold, and brown that layered in waves across the ground, broken by scraggly brush and other desert-growing plants. It wasn't that different from the Vautzs' lot in Arizona. There were even cars dotted about the landscape much like Oscar's collection waiting to be restored, except the cars here were far from shabby rust buckets. Resting in the shade of houses or sunbathing under the morning sky, the cars here were glimmering beauties; perfect paint, perfect lines, perfect everything. The cars were also _alive_.

Mikaela eyed a handsome forest green Ford Mustang sitting door-to-door with a hot red Alfa Romeo Diva laying in full glare of the sun. Not far from the pair was a charcoal black Chevy truck. Glancing at Sam, Mikaela knew he saw the Autobots too, and judging from his lack of response to them, they probably weren't on guard or anything. Trying to get a feel for the robots in disguise, Mikaela sensed that they were all relaxing on their own time. A few were perhaps even recharging out in the open instead of being cooped up below ground.

One or two beeped their horns as Sam passed, exchanging a greeting or two, but little more came of it. They made it to the dusty barn without incident. The big doors on the front were just for show, which became obvious as they got up close. There was a door around the side, shaded by a dusty, well-worn porch lined by large, thick-glassed windows. Judging by the many tracks patterning the dirt leading up, this was the door everyone used.

"Do we just go in?" Mikaela asked, hesitating on the threshold.

"Sure, they're expecting us," Sam said, turning the knob and swinging the door in.

"About damn time!" Epps yelled, his deep voice carrying easily across the open space.

"You're lucky we came at all!" Sam yelled back, going down on one knee to meet the small pack of dogs that came rushing at him. Two Rottweilers and one bear-like Newfoundlander, each shaking with pure dog-joy as the power of their wagging tails shook their entire bodies. They danced from paw to paw, jostling to be under Sam's hand. "Hey boys, hey," Sam greeted warmly, scrubbing each furry head lovingly.

Mikaela hung back, watching warily. She half-expected one of the canines to look up at her and say something in English. Thankfully, none did. One huge Rottweiler, at least one hundred and fifty pounds, caught her scent, backing away from Sam to stare at her with a gaping maw, pink tongue still lolling. It was so big that it looked like it ate people for breakfast.

"Um… good boy?"

With a deep, joyous "WUFF!" he launched toward her. Following their pack mate's call, the other two abandoned Sam to investigate the newcomer. With each four-legged giant easily being as heavy as the first, Mikaela ended up being involved in four hundred pounds worth of a dog pile.

"No! Down, boys!" Sam called uselessly, just as he lost sight of Mikaela going down under paws, tongues, and heaps of black fur. "Stop! Sit! Lay down! Bad dogs!"

Mikaela only had a moment to be scared of such furry behemoths before she was laughing at all the unbridled happiness being heaped on her. She flailed, which only seemed to encourage them more. Several wet, pink tongues thoroughly washed every inch of exposed skin on her person. She could hear Sam somewhere over her, futilely try to drag the dogs out of their frenzy of joy at meeting a new person. He called desperate commands that were only ignored.

"Hahahahahaha, good boys! Good boys!" she laughed, patting whichever head came under her hand. The thought that everyone was going to leave her to her bizarre fate briefly passed through her mind. It was quashed when a strong hand, notably not Sam's, grasped hold of her own.

"Bear! Dog! Rotten! **SIT!"**

A voice like a female marine sergeant boomed off the rafters. As if physically yanked away, the dogs whose unfortunate names appeared to be Bear, Dog, and Rotten, fell away, obediently falling to their haunches. The hand that grasped Mikaela's tightened, and with a sizable heave and groan, she was on her feet. Clumps and tangles of drool-dampened hair hung in her face, the skin of her cheeks, arms, and a strip of her belly where her shirt rode up, was sticky and wet. Every inch of her smelled of _dog _now. Flipping hanks of hair back, she glared down at the responsible party, who seemed to grin as they panted up at her.

"Bad dogs," she pouted darkly, and then jumped back when the big black bear-like one lurched forward like he wanted to repeat the experience.

The woman who had hauled Mikaela up spun around, her presence alone seemingly enough to freeze the dog in its tracks. "BED!" she barked, sounding very much like a dog herself. Instantly, the small pack picked up and trotted to the far corner of the long, dim open house and flopped down on a collection of faded pillows.

Mikaela spared the dogs one last wary stare before she looked to her rescuer, surprised she had to look quite a ways up to see the woman's face. She was Sam's height, maybe taller, and built like a Dallas linebacker, with the dark copper skin and features that spoke of her Native American heritage. One glance down also revealed that she was very pregnant.

"You must be Mikaela Banes," said the woman, grinning rakishly.

Sam finally returned to Mikaela's side. "This is Chase Hendrix," he announced.

"The one who shaved Annabelle's head!" Mikaela exclaimed, laughing. "Nice to finally meet you."

Chase's dark eyes lit up. "Same here. Been hearing great things about you." She looked Mikaela up and down. "How about we get you a dishcloth to wipe off the drool and then you can eat?"

"Sounds good to me," Mikaela agreed eagerly.

With a deft tug that easily felt like it could have pulled her arm from its socket, Mikaela was pulled away from Sam to the gathering of familiar faces in the area that looked like the kitchen, separated from the rest of the open space by a long island counter. Sam loped after them, taking up his customary spot at the battered oak table while Mikaela was guided to the sink. Chase pulled out a clean cloth and soaked it, tossing it to Mikaela.

"Nothing fancy, but it'll work," the woman shrugged.

"Thanks a bunch." As she gratefully scrubbed her face, arms, and every other part of her body she could get to, the man commanding the oven leaned over and pointed at her forehead.

"You missed a spot," he teased, grinning handsomely.

Laughing, Mikaela scrubbed until her forehead was pink and no longer felt sticky. "There, better?"

"Much," he laughed, setting down a spatula to extend his own hand in greeting. His rolled up shirt sleeve revealed a forearm lined with thick black tribal tattoos. "Haellie."

"Mikaela," she greeted in return, shaking his hand.

Looking Haellie Hendrix over, Mikaela was quick to surmise that he was epitome of the teddy bear type. What should have been a very intimidating presence, being six-foot-seven and built in a way that screamed of a physically demanding lifestyle, was ruined by a pair of the softest brown eyes she'd ever seen and a ready grin. The sides of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. He didn't look like he had an aggressive bone in his body.

"Well, Mikaela," Haellie said as he released her hand. "I hope you like tofu for breakfast!"

Behind her, an expansive groan rose, except for one brief 10-year-old boy cheer.

"Um… tofu's okay, I guess," Mikaela answered unsurely, glancing over her shoulder to Sam, Will, Viktor, and Epps as they pouted. The women looked unperturbed as they picked at the various bowls of fruit set out between them. Billy looked downright excited.

"Then sit down already." A pair of hands clapped down on her shoulders, steering her to the table. Chase easily plunked Mikaela down, and then fell back into a chair of her own with a groan. "My feet hurt!" she whined.

Haellie was already moving to the industrial-sized fridge for her. "Ice?"

"Food first," she grumped.

"Coming up!" the giant beamed, happily sweeping a pan worth of scrambled egg-flavoured tofu onto a plate and sliding it between Epps and Will, who leaned away from it as if it were the plague. Trotting back around, Haellie snatched a plate of toast warming in the oven, and then a stack of floppy vegan-pancakes. Orange juice, apple juice, and soy milk quickly followed. Finally, with two small bags of ice in hand, Haellie dropped down next to his wife and attempted to fuss. What resulted was an entertaining game of tug as Chase insisted she could put ice on her own feet and Haellie kept asserting that she couldn't put ice on something she hadn't seen in weeks.

Mikaela giggled, watching them from the corner of her eye while she dove into the fray of flying hands. The pancakes and toast were the first to go, claimed by the men who refused to touch the tofu. She was still new to the free-for-all eating style, so missed out on the toast and pancakes. Instead, she piled her plate high with copious amounts of fruit and stole the small bowl of granola trail mix she spotted hiding behind the orange juice. The tofu was shared between everyone _not_ glaring at it as if it were the antichrist.

Sam caught Mikaela eyeing his small stash of pancakes wistfully. "Want one?" he offered.

"Just one," Mikaela said, smiling.

"Trade you for it," he weaselled.

Glancing at her plate, she had nothing he wanted or didn't already have. "For what?"

He stole a kiss, and then tossed a pancake onto her plate. Huffing, Mikaela stubbornly ignored the Cheshire grins and approving nods thrown their way. The whole lot of them were incorrigible.

Once everyone was settled back in their seats, assured no one had lost fingers in the frenzy, the usual atmosphere of talking and eating commenced. Although both Fluffy and Barnaby failed to make an appearance, the Hendrixs' dogs happily took the mantel as hovering animal familiars. They wandered around the table to beg for scraps, laying their drooling muzzles in the laps of whoever would let them. They were only banished when Chase took exception to their begging and barked at them again, after which they readily hightailed it back to the sanctuary of their beds.

Sarah reached across the table to pat Mikaela's hand. "So, you ready for today?" she asked.

Mikaela nodded, not necessarily looking up to meet the other woman's gaze.

"How far is the Vautzs' home from here?" Maggie wondered, not even having to look at Epps while she smacked him away from her plate.

Mikaela opened her mouth to answer, only to remember that she had been unconscious when being transported from Barricade's attack site to here. She looked to Sam expectantly.

"It's a few hours drive- 4 or 5, I think," he informed. "Who's driving?"

Sarah smirked. "Ironhide volunteered."

Sam snorted. "Okay, you'll get there in 3, _if_ he doesn't get impatient."

Mikaela stilled, biting her bottom lip. "Is Ironhide really necessary? I don't want to make a big deal out of this."

"He wants to," Sarah insisted. "Came by this morning to say he was driving. His hologram will be useful carrying stuff, and his alt mode's bed is big enough to fit whatever you have."

"Alright…" She still didn't look too enthused with the idea.

"Shall I do a medical examination before you go?" Viktor offered, half rising from his seat.

"No you may not," Sam replied smartly, edging closer to Mikaela. She put a hand to the side of his head and pushed him away. That did nothing to deter him. He grabbed the seat of her chair and dragged her over until their legs touched. Mikaela doubled her efforts to push him away. "We discussed this last night, Mickey," he whined. "I'm not leaving you vulnerable to Ashkroft's Russian charms!"

Will facepalmed. "Sam, you're borderline pathetic."

"Try living with him, Will!" Mikaela whined. "He's worse!"

A brief, barely noticeable pause passed over the table as the occupants exchanged flashing, impish glances. Mikaela caught the looks, frowning. Realizing she was still fruitlessly trying to push Sam away, she jerked her hands off him. Sam flung forward from his own momentum, jarring the table by catching it with his right hand.

"I'm not pathetic," he countered, sounding rather… well, pathetic. "I am a respected ambassador for the planet Earth, the holder of a PhDs, a writer-."

"You whine, beg, cheat, and steal for kisses, you can't stand the thought of an unattached man looking at me, you can barely look Bluestreak in the eye after what you did with his hologram-,"

Someone snorted into their drink.

"_And_, if you don't remember, you stole my panties at the hotel! You don't get much lower than that!"

The table suddenly erupted in a chorus of laughter.

"That's just wrong, Uncle Sam!" Annabelle admonished, yet she stilled laughed.

"I gave them back!" he exclaimed, hardly apologetic. In fact, he was laughing too.

"That doesn't make you any less pathetic," Mikaela sniffed, turning her nose up at him.

"You'll just have to get used to him like that," Epps teased, dark eyes sparkling.

"I can put up with him for now," she said haughtily. "But not forever."

"We'll see about that."

Flags of pink stained Mikaela's cheeks.

It wasn't long after that that a clock on the wall chimed, warning of the time. Those who had work rose from the table, all except the owners of the house, who rushed through gathering the dishes and throwing them in the sink before they could set off. Billy was snagged by the back of his shirt and tugged along behind his father.

"I wanna go with mom!" he cried.

"Some other time," Will shushed, nodding to the women. "I'm sure Mikaela wants to be quick about getting her stuff. They don't need you under foot."

"Annie's staying!"

Annabelle stuck her tongue out. "I can help, shortie. You can't."

Sam swung the pouting boy to his shoulders. "We'll find something for you to do, lil'buddy." Pausing by the island counter, he rapped his knuckles on it twice before deciding to turn around and head back for Mikaela. Not at all bothered by Billy's weight, he bent down to be on par with her. "It'll be okay, I promise." He kissed her cheek. Billy, having no other choice since he was being shoved face-first into Mikaela's head, kissed her too.

Accepting both kisses, Mikaela cupped the side of Sam's face for a moment, meeting his gaze with a brief nod, and then she fluffed Billy's hair fondly.

It was only a minute after their departure that a loud honk sounded from outside, and then a gravelly voice shouting,

"**Hurry up!" **

Sarah stood, shaking her head. "He's another one who hasn't changed."

Rushing out to meet with Ironhide, Mikaela was given the honour of sitting in his driver's seat. Sarah took the passenger's side, Maggie was in the back, and Annabelle stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew an impressively shrill whistle, which brought a sleek black motorcycle to her.

"I'll ride Knockout," she said as she hopped astride the Autobot.

Suddenly the door to the Hendrixs' swung open and a storm cloud of a woman was shoved out, the door snapping closed on her ass.

"Haellie! Let me back in right now!" Chase howled, spinning around to pound on the door. "Damn it, let me!"

A window shot open, Haellie's dark head leaning out. He looked to the women in Ironhide's cab pleadingly. "Take her with you!"

"Traitor!"

"_Please_ take her with you! I want her to take it easy for a day." Haellie ducked as his wife's fist swung at his head. "I love you, honey, but go away!" He slammed the window shut. Chase continued to howl like a wounded animal.

Mikaela shifted uncomfortably. "Are they always like this?"

"More or less," Sarah sighed. She leaned out the window. "Give it a rest, Chase! He's not letting you back in!"

Knockout revved impatiently. "Can we get moving now? I'll rust before any of you humans go anywhere."

Ironhide's backdoor swung open. "Get in, Chase," he ordered roughly. "He's already called down to the hangar and told everyone to bar you entry. Your access code is also being revoked. You have no choice but to come."

"This is a conspiracy!"

Mikaela watched in fascination as Chase swung on her heel and marched for Ironhide as if he were a death sentence. His cab was so high off the ground that she required help scrambling in. Mikaela waited until the woman was buckled in and Ironhide was rolling for the road before she craned around to peer cautiously at the new addition to their group. Compared to Maggie's slight form, Chase was a beast.

"You okay?"

"No." With a huff, Chase crossed her arms over her swollen abdomen. "I'm not an invalid."

"No one ever said you were," Maggie sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Then I should be down in the hangar right now working, not exiled to freakin' Arizona for the day!" Shooting a furtive glance Mikaela's way, she inclined her head. "No offense."

"None taken," Mikaela chuckled. "But don't you think you're overreacting? You're pregnant, after all. You should be taking it easy."

Chase shook her head, fixing Mikaela with a fiery stare. "Oh no, not with a man like Haellie," she said. "Not with any of the men on base. That's just asking for it if you do."

Mikaela blinked confusedly. "What do you-?"

"_Knockout, stop popping wheelies with Annie! You'll throw her off!"_ Sarah suddenly roared out the window, aided by a bellowing honk of Ironhide's horn. Knockout's front wheel hit the pavement half a second later. Annie was presumably yelling at her mother, but couldn't be heard over the roar of the wind. Sarah drew her head back in, smoothing her windblown hair back into place. "Sorry about that," she said sheepishly.

"Uh…" Mikaela looked from Chase to Sarah and back again. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Men on base and their inability to respect boundaries," Chase replied grumpily. "Men like Haellie, Will, _anyone_-." She flicked an aggravated hand in the air.

"They're like Neanderthals, only they bathe more regularly," Sarah laughed.

Chase flashed a shark's smile. "No one will ever love you more than men like them; they're loyal, loving, and protective to a fault, but you give them one moment of weakness, and all they want to do is coddle you." Both hands covered her belly. "Day he found out I was pregnant, Haellie just about short-circuited- didn't want me to work or nothing. He may act like a pushover, but he's as stubborn as a damn mule when he wants to be. I've had to fight him every step of the way, and I'm still going to be fighting him after this baby is born."

Mikaela laughed, only to have a finger wagged in her face.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you," Chase warned, looking rather smug. "I saw the way Sam was looking at you this morning. He may be stubborn, pigheaded, and so pathetic it's sad, but he's head over heels for you. You think he's going to let you go so easily, you've got another thing coming."

"Like a dog with a bone," Maggie chimed in unhelpfully.

"And like you guys aren't?" Mikaela countered. "I see what you're trying to do for me and Sam and it's not going to work."

Sarah placed a hand to Mikaela's shoulder. "Can you blame us for trying?"

Mikaela pursed her lips. "No, but it's still not going work."

Ironhide gave something of a snort through his speakers. "Because you are stubborn, or because you are scared, Mikaela?"

"Not you too, Ironhide!" Turning back around in her seat, she sunk into the padding. There was no answer she could give. For the rest of the drive, she didn't say much at all.

* * *

"Lil'Mick!"

The moment her feet hit the dirt, a pair of strong, veined arms circled around her. Oscar's bushy hair tickled her face as he clapped her back, wringing her back and forth. Gloria shot out the front door, slapping her hands down her front to beat away any non-existent dirt. Sprinting like an Olympic runner, the spry old woman was upon Mikaela in seconds.

Dear lord, girl! Look at you!"

Kisses that smelled of flowery perfume and old people peppered her face, smearing the tracks of tears that had begun to fall the moment the Vautzs' shop came into sight. Shaking hands, looking brittle yet as strong as steel, smoothed over Mikaela's face, brushing back her hair.

"Oh, just look at you, honey," Gloria said, eyeing each bruise lit up under the hot sunlight. "Are you in pain? Does it hurt anywhere?"

God, it hurt so bad in her chest that she wanted to start crying all over again, though Mikaela didn't say the words out loud. "No, it's fine, Gloria. It's just a couple bumps here and there- it looks a lot better than it did."

"You look somethin' better than that there ol' Ford of yours," Oscar said, bussing her cheek, finally backing away. "We're some mighty glad ta see you again, Mickey."

"I- I'm not here for long…"

"We know," the old man croaked, rubbing at the corner of his eye with a knobby knuckle. "But even just a short time is better than nothin'."

Gloria took a hand, patting it. "Oscar's right, dear. Just seeing you for a bit before you… go, is more than we can ask for." Her sharp eyes cast around to the small group huddled near Ironhide. "Would you like to come in for something before you start packing?" She eyed Chase's condition with the critical eye. "At least let's get out of this heat."

The humans were seen into the house first, followed by the holograms of Ironhide and Knockout, who insisted on staying out a moment longer to sweep the area to make sure their holding was safe. Once inside, they introduced themselves as Ian Hyde and Knox Outterman in such a practised way that doing so could only mean this was not their first time faking humanity. A brief respite of tea and fresh scones was served, though the air was so tense in the living room that not a morsel could be enjoyed.

Gloria seemed to be counting in her head, her calmness being only a brittle shell. Her hands still shook as she patted Mikaela's knee. "Why don't you show your friends up to the loft, honey? Oscar and I will clean up here and then we'll join you."

Unable to say differently, Mikaela rose and slid from the room. She didn't bother to check if the others were following. If she looked any of them in the eye, she'd start crying all over again.

Out the backdoor and across the small, sparse yard, Mikaela took them too a rickety structure that was only big enough to fit a car or two. The wooden walls were all shades of grey and white, bleached by the sun and scoured by the wind and sand. A narrow staircase lead up the side to a door that stood slightly crooked in its frame with a knob that didn't lock. Inside was a collection of her meagre possessions collected over the last three years- an eclectic mix of nothing much. It was her home, though. The walls were painted her favourite shades of blue, the windows clean and bright. There was an air conditioner shove in one of the windows, but not turned on, leaving the small space unbearably hot and musty. A cot under one window sat vacant in the way she's left it days before, sheets a mess and clothes scattered on it. An antique dresser from the Vautz's attic boasted of her clothes. A small chest filled with her most prized possessions lay in the shade of a corner, locked and forlorn, while a bookcase she had picked up at a flea market was lined with car models, sea shells, a few odd books, and a scattering of photographs.

"I told you I didn't have much," Mikaela said lowly.

"But what you have, you love," Sarah assured, pressing by her into the loft.

"We'll start on that shelf over there," Annie announced. "Come on, Knockout." From her pocket, the teen pulled several rectangular devices. Pressing the button of one, it snapped into the shape of a cube and expanded. With respect to everything they touched, the pair quickly set about packing Mikaela's stuff.

Sarah, Maggie, Mikaela, and Chase fell into packing the rest. Ironhide took the role of hefting the full cubes down to his bed. With Gloria and Oscar's help, the entire loft was cleared out in a little under an hour. Standing back outside again, staring at Ironhide's truck bed, Mikaela could hardly believe her whole life could be packed into a couple of boxes. The cot wasn't hers, or the dresser, and she was leaving the bookcase for the Vautzs, so the only other solid object she seemed to own was her scarred wooden chest with its tarnished lock. In it were things of immaterial worth- photo albums documenting the happiest times of her life, the clothes she'd worn on the infamous day Mission City became a battleground, her high school diploma, the dress she wore to her prom on base that still kind of fit…

She was crying again, rubbing at her eyes angrily.

"Sweetheart…" Gloria's soft voice crooned in her ear. Two thin arms enveloped her. "I may not know exactly what is happening with you, but I am so, so sorry. I see you hurting and I wish there was something I could do to make it stop."

Mikaela spun around, burying her face in the old woman's neck. "I wish it was different, too, Gloria. I don't want to leave."

Gloria rubbed a cheek to the crown of Mikaela's head. "We all knew you couldn't stay forever, honey. This was always a temporary thing, until you got back on your feet…"

Mikaela nodded, sobbing freely. "I know that… but this is my home…"

"I know it, sweetie, I know…" A small, weak sound drifted from under a veil of white hair.

Oscar swooped in, clasping one of her hands tightly. "Here will always be yer home, Mickey," he said. "Don't matter where you go, how long yer gone, if you can come back, don't think twice about it. You come back ta us, ya hear? The loft will always have yer name on it."

Mikaela nodded, squeezing Oscar's rough hand. "I will. I promise."

Oscar smiled a sad, wavering smile. From under his voluminous white eyebrows, his eyes shone with unshed tears. "Good." He leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Yer like me own daughter. I'll always love ya like that, lil'Mick."

"I love you, too, Oscar."

Coughing gruffly, the old man stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered into the open garage to cry privately. Gloria remained, tears falling down her weathered cheeks.

"He's right- you are family. You've been family from the day Oscar found you on the side of the road, and you'll family until the desert bleaches my old bones-." They both twittered with watery laughs. "You're a smart girl, Mikaela, and so loving when you want to be. You've had a hard life, though. You guard your heart something fierce." She kissed both Mikaela's cheeks. "You listen to this old woman, alright? Don't be afraid to let others in. It might surprise you how much good it would do you."

"Gloria…"

"Be safe, honey," Gloria murmured, going to her tiptoes to leave one last kiss on Mikaela's forehead. "Know that you'll always have a home here. We'll always love you."

Mikaela steadied herself with a deep breath, stepping away. "I'll always love you, too." She brushed her fingers along Gloria's old face, memorizing every little detail. "You were more of a mother to me than my real mother ever was."

Gloria closed her eyes, letting the words sink in. Nodding, she pressed Mikaela onward, towards Ironhide's awaiting doors. "It's time to go, you shouldn't keep them waiting…"

"Right…" Piling into the back, with Chase and Maggie manning the front seats and Sarah braced on the other side of the back, Mikaela turned as the door closed. She pressed her hand to the window, feeling it vibrate briefly. "Bye."

Gloria offered one last water smile, straightening her spine for a semblance of the tough old lady she was. "Goodbye, Mikaela."


	18. Chapter 18

**Theo3983**- Haha, the dogs' names were spur of the moment things. Whatever popped into my head became their names XD Glad you like the interaction of everyone. Writing it is the best part =P

**Cassiopia1979**- *hands you a tissue*

**Bigguy204**- Glad you enjoyed the chapter, even with the whirlwind of emotions. There more of it in this chapter, but I would say it's a whirlwind of a different kind. *wink*

**Spedclass**- Thanks~

**Katanagirl16**- Haha, thanks so much! The breakfast scene was so much fun to write! I'm glad you enjoyed it! =)

**Thomthom830**- Goodness, such high praise! I'm flattered! *blushes* Realism (or semi-realism since we're dealing with giant alien robots, too ^^; ) and relatability are two major things I aim for in my writing. I'm glad you enjoyed it all. =D

**FunkyFish1991**- Oh, my dear, what am I to o with you? Writing reviews when you should be writing ankle-biting essays. I should wag my finger and say "shame on you" but can't quite bring myself to do it with a straight face. I'm always amazed at what details you pick up in the writing that even I gloss over when I write it… the beginning with Sam and the links to technology- totally over my head when I wrote it! XD Although, we do happen to be on the same train of thought when referring to Chase and her mastery of hounds. Doesn't matter the incarnation, her power is absolute. XD

**Leoshunny1985**- Thanks~

**Ilovenat1983**- It'll get better, I swear ^_^

**OMGOTH23**- It'll take some effort on Sam's part to finally get Mikaela to see that the world really isn't out to get her, and it's going to take some bravery on Mikaela's part to risk her heart for the right rewards.

**Bluebird Soaring**- Thanks so much~ Bumblebee and Sam's part was a delight to write, I'm so glad you enjoyed them. Hopefully, in the end, Mikaela will get to see the Vautzs again. Who knows what the future will hold?

**Drbl**- Um, no thanks.

**Edward-Mountain-Is-So-Cool**- Hahaha, well, then I did my job write. To affect readers with the writing is the highest compliment anyone can pay to a writer. =D

**Nienne Tinehtele**- Well, Mikaela may not be happy about staying, but there are elements of her stay that can make her _very_ happy, if you catch my drift. *wink* Hopefully she'll learn that life isn't all about heartache.

**Lecidre**- It was a sad day for everyone the day Mikaela said goodbye to the Vautzs. Maybe someday in the future she'll be able to see them again? As for Haellie and Chase- I'm so glad you enjoyed seeing them in the chapter. I couldn't resist throwing them in there for fun. XD

**Sutzina Zion**- I happy to hear that you enjoyed the chapter. Poor Mikaela, leaving the people she called family and now having to put up with Sam on a regular basis. We can only hope she gets over her annoyance for him. XD

**Oceanlover14**- There are so many things riding on Mikaela's decision to stay… it's almost not fair how much she's being pressured. =( Although, if she does stay with Sam, she'll find out a greater happiness than she's ever known. Who knows what the future will bring?

Hi everyone! No, I'm not dead, just overworked. ^^; Hopefully there's still love in the universe out there for this story~ Cosmic hugs to you all! =D

**Chapter 18**

"Sam…? _Sam_…? …_**Sam!"**_

Rolling his eyes, Will turned out of the office to the small group gathered in the hall.

"Well?" Viktor enquired, one brow arched imperiously.

"He's in the zone," Will informed flatly, which was followed by a collective sigh of annoyance.

"That idiot is so single-minded," Epps grunted with a shake of his head.

"He's probably been like that since morning." Will pinched the bridge of his nose, growling in frustration. "If we leave him like that, he'll be there until tomorrow morning."

"Does he smell?" Bumblebee asked, sounding clearly put-upon by the situation. Sam was being completely counterproductive to his juvenile Get-Sam-and-Mikaela-Together scheme.

Will chuckled dryly. "I didn't bother to get that close, Bee, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't start smelling after a day of sitting in a chair." He rolled his shoulders. "It doesn't matter, anyways. He's in the zone, and nothing any us say or do will snap him out of it."

Epps peered in Bee's window to get a look at the dashboard, spying the time. "The girls have been back for an hour already. We gotta do _something_ to get Sam out of workaholic-mode and get him up there with Mikaela." The unspoken threat of _"–or the women will kill us"_ hung heavily in the air. Each man knew it, felt it, and realized that their future happiness hung on the notion of getting Sam off his ass and above ground.

"I could always volunteer my services to comfort the distraught woman," Viktor offered airily. "Surely Mikaela would not object to my presence?"

Haellie snorted, quickly covering up his laughter as the doctor delivered him a punch in the arm.

"No thanks, Casanova. Save the offer for another time," Will dismissed, albeit with a wry smile.

"This is ridiculous!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "Just this morning he was intensely concerned for Mikaela's wellbeing and how she will fare during her stay here, and now he has probably forgotten all about her in lieu of his work! Oh, he is so frustrating sometimes!"

"Typical Sam," Will sighed.

"Moron," Epps grunted.

Haellie shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I could always, you know, go get Chase… I'm sure she could roust him."

They all collectively cringed. None of them were quite ready to face that particular brand of wrath just yet; she was one woman whose bark was just as painful as her bite.

"If you did that, not only will Sam need workaholic rehabilitation, he will be seeking trauma treatment as well," Viktor intoned dryly. "Perhaps it is wiser to leave Chase above ground."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Haellie sighed. "She'd probably just yell at me as soon as she sees me, anyways."

"Which still leaves us with what to do about our man Sam," Epps said, nodding to the ominous door with the smart little plaque reading: Ambassador S. Witwicky. "Gotta do something soon or he's gonna be dead man in a cold, empty bed."

"I guess there is only one thing to do," Bumblebee sighed, materializing a hologram amongst the humans. Every man with a wit of sense backed up several steps.

"Bee, I wouldn't go there if I were you," Epps warned, hands up as if to keep the hologram at bay.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," the scout announced, shaking his holographic head. "I'm the only one here that can do it what needs to be done."

"He'll hate you for it, man."

"That's a risk I'll just have to take."

Will inched for the door. "Just let me try to snap him out of it one more time." Swinging the door open, he stuck his head in. **"SAM!" **Not so much as a peep out of the man at the desk. Pulling out, he shook his head. "Okay, Bee, he's all yours."

"Watch how an expert does it," the hologram asserted, swaggering for the door and slipping in.

Sam's formal office was a shade larger then the one in his home. It was large enough that Bumblebee could drive in while in alt mode and transform to comfortably sit against the front wall. It was also a bit more barren than his office above ground, lacking the familial warmth of pictures and trinkets. The spartan décor consisted of bare rock walls, an LCD ceiling that mimicked the current weather outside, and a heavy desk behind which Sam sat engrossed in his work.

Bumblebee gave his hologram one last quick inspection before he straightened up, thrust his chest out, and made the classic noise of a human clearing their throat. As predicted, Sam did not acknowledge the traditional method of trying to capture his attention. Gliding closer, the scout tried again only to fail. Coming within a foot of the front of the desk, he noted that a tactical revision of a planned raid on a suspected Decepticon stronghold in Mongolia was what had thoroughly stolen Sam's mind. Bumblebee also noted that the human was nearly done the revision and could spare to send it to Prowl for completion. Cocking his hip again the front of the desk, the hologram leaned in and cleared his throat pointedly.

Startled, Sam's gaze shot up. His eyes widened in surprise. "M-Mikaela?"

Indeed, that was the hologram Bumblebee was currently employing. Seeing that he now had his friend's undivided attention, the scout smiled languidly and slipped around to Sam's side of the desk. Standing behind him, he leaned down so his mouth was even with Sam's ear, plump holographic lips brushing the sensitive skin.

"Did you happen to forget someone today?" the scout murmured coyly.

"Forget…?" It took a moment for reality to sink in. As soon as it did, Sam shot away from his desk, spinning his chair around to the figure he thought was the real Mikaela. "Oh my god, I'm sorry! I got so caught up in the work- I didn't look at the time-." A long, slender finger to his lips shushed him.

"I guessed as much." Bumblebee slid onto Sam's lap, wrapping his arms around his best friend's neck. If he was going to play up this charade for the best possible result, then he wasn't going to spare any quarter. "It's not very nice to forget about your guests-."

"I know! I know!"

"-especially after the day they've had."

"I swear to god, I'm sorry…" Sam searched the hologram's gaze, his face suddenly turning puzzled. "Shouldn't you be more upset?"

Bumblebee arched an eyebrow, frowning. Now that the game was up, he let his voice return to normal. "Shouldn't you be asking the _real_ Mikaela that?"

Sam's face predictably dropped, as did the arms that had been wrapped around the hologram. With a roar that sounded remarkably like _"Bumblebee!"_ the scout was shoved from his friend's lap, allowing Sam to jump up and away. "You-! You-!" There were no words to convey the horror! The betrayal! The sense of deep and irreparable violation!

Bumblebee brushed himself off. "It needed to be done, Sam," he stated curtly.

"Did you need to use a hologram? _Her hologram_?"

"Would you have paid attention if I used anyone else?" Not liking that the human wasn't moving anywhere, Bumblebee walked forward with his arms open as if he were about to try and hug Sam. "Need I offer more incentive?"

With a choked sound of disgust, Sam ducked under the hologram's arms. "I'm going! I'm going!" Sprinting for the door, he bolted out, passing the gathering of expectant males on the other wise. Without stopping to greet any of them, Sam shot by in a blur, shouting _"I hate you all!"_ to the party responsible for his misery.

The only reply he got was Epps yelling after him, "Run faster, moron!"

* * *

Rushing in through the backdoor, he heaved like he'd just run a mile and looked worse for it. Taking a moment to bend over his knees and suck in some much needed oxygen, he steeled himself for what possible horrors might be awaiting him in his kitchen. Straightening up, thrusting his chest out, he marched down the corridor into the comfortable room warmed by buttery light and the steam of several cups of tea. Several sets of steely eyes peered up, most of them narrowed and glinting like cats' eyes. This was quite possibly worse than Bumblebee masquerading as Mikaela, only because the women looked ready to kill him with a look.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Annabelle harrumphed, tapping her fingers impatiently on the tabletop. "So not cool, Uncle Sam."

"I'm guessing there's no point in saying I'm sorry to you lot?" Sam asked, still a little out of breath.

"No," Sarah stated glacially.

"Don't waste your apologies on us," Maggie intoned.

"Okay, no apologies." Sam leaned back, feeling as if he were wearing a great big target in the center of his chest and the women were just waiting for the right moment to fire on him. He didn't like the way Chase was tracing the prongs of a very sharp looking fork. Wisely, Sam took a farther step back. He searched each face, all hosting similar dark looks of disapproval, and he quickly discovered the one face he was looking for wasn't there. "Where's Mikaela?"

"Upstairs," Sarah informed, frowning deeper.

Sam looked back to the stairs, and then into the kitchen again. It had been a very long time since he had such collective wrath placed against him. He was usually wise enough to stay out of their way, or too engrossed in his work to notice. Now, with their womanly fury zeroed in on him, he was increasingly starting to feel like a rat that had just crawled into a nest of vipers. Escape was his only option if he wanted to live.

"I should be going up there, should I?" he said, pointing up with a single finger in case 'up there' wasn't specific enough.

"_Yes," _came the collectively hissed reply.

Jerking a stiff nod, he spun on his heel and darted for the stairs. Yes, he was glad to be on his way to Mikaela's side, partly because the other women made him want to hide behind her metaphorical skirts, but also because he wanted to be there for her.

Upon reaching the second floor, he paused to listen for any signs of Mikaela. What he did catch was the scrape of chairs being pushed back as the small pack of angry predators finally prowled out of his house. He didn't dare move until he heard the front door snap shut. Once sure he was free of them, he breathed a sigh of relief. In the silence that followed, a muffled sniff carried down the vacant hallway.

Sam's chest tightened with guilt. He hadn't meant to forget about her, but work had a way of zoning him out of reality. There were reports, evaluations, proposals, and on top of that his editor was after him for manuscripts to his next book… Sam grimaced. Excuses, excuses- that's all it was. He was addicted to his work. He had to get his priorities straight if he was going to have any hope of convincing Mikaela to stick around.

"Mickey?" he called quietly, softly.

The muffled sniffling stopped. Whatever shuffling action she's been doing froze as well, as if she could trick him into thinking she'd disappeared.

Sam took a couple steps down the hall towards the room at the end, the only one with the light on. "Mickey? I know you're there…"

"Go away, Sam," she replied lowly. By the stuffy sound of her voice, she'd been crying for a while.

Ignoring the order, Sam crossed to the doorway, peering in. She sat on the floor with her back to him, wrapped in a bathrobe that was her own. It was thin but comfortable looking; it was wrapped tight around her like a security blanket. Her hair was damp from a recent shower. Spread out in front of her and across most of the guestroom were boxes containing all her earthly possessions. Clothes were piled in front of her as she sorted through them, folding them into their own piles.

Sensing his stare, she stiffened, back straightening, chin lifting. "I said go away, Sam. I just want to be by myself right now."

"You've been by yourself long enough," Sam intoned gently, padding the short distance between them. He laid his hand to her shoulder, which trembled through the soft fleece of the bathrobe. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back- I should have been here. I got distracted, that's all…"

She jerked away from his touch, going back to sorting through her clothes stubbornly. "It's fine. You don't need to give me an excuse."

"You're right, you deserve more than that."

"I don't-."

"You do." Easing to the floor, Sam scooted behind Mikaela so that his thighs bracketed hers, wrapping his arms around her. He laid his cheek to the center of her back. "You deserve so much more than all this shit happening to you."

"Obviously someone doesn't think so, or it wouldn't be happening to me."

Sam sighed, his chest still tight. "That's bad luck- _really_ bad luck. It'll get better, I swear. Give it time and it'll get better." He flinched at how stupid that sounded. There was nothing more irritating than someone coming along during an emotional life crisis and saying that time will fix everything. Thankfully, Mikaela was in no mood to hit him, and she was already so upset that she couldn't possibly get any worse. Instead, she sighed, using the sleeve of her robe to wipe her eyes and nose, and then said,

"I wish it would get better now."

"I wish it would, too."

Mikaela's hands stilled on the sundress Gloria had given her for her birthday- it was a little wrinkled from its mistreatment in the crowded box with the other clothes. Her eyes started to sting again, a fair warning of the flood about to come. "Can you-," she sniffed harshly. "Can you go away now?"

Feeling the tremble run through her, Sam rubbed his cheek to her back, holding her tighter. "Nope, I'm here now. I'm staying."

How was she supposed to tell him that it was humiliating to have him there? She'd already cried enough in front of him. In the past few days, she'd already cried more than what she had in all her life prior. Mikaela futilely tried to scoot away, only to find that the arms around her weren't going to let go. They never wanted to let go. Ever. She looked down at them, blinking furiously to clear her vision. They were familiar, strong, and damn determined not to let her go.

"Let it out if you want to, okay?" he said. "If you want to cry, just do it. I'm not going anywhere…"

"You just _had _to say that, didn't you?" In one wavering breath, she was crying again for the thousandth time. There didn't seem to be an end to the tears that fell. All day they came. From the moment the Vautz homestead was out of sight in Ironhide's back window, the tears fell. They kept coming even after her eyes grew red and stung, her cheeks turned warm and pink, her nose raw from rubbing at it. And now here she was, dehydrated from all the crying and still finding enough moisture to sob into a cotton sundress while the man she loved sat helplessly behind her and she couldn't even sum up the courage to look at him.

It felt like she was drowning, her chest tight, lungs burning. There was no controlling the shaking in her hands. No matter how many time she 'let it out', something inside remained bottled up. It was a pressure that built and burned. Her head was left aching while her ears rang. Every single one of her hard won bruises from her encounter with Barricade seemed to hurt double than they did the day before. All she saw in her head was Gloria's wise blue eyes and Oscar's quirky smile; she could still smell the musk of her dusty old loft lingering on her clothes. The ache in her chest, in her heart, only grew worse with everything breath.

Sam felt his own eyes stinging, his eyelashes going damp. Careful not to jostle Mikaela, slowly turned her, letting her face burrow into the side of his neck, her hands cinching in his shirt. He picked her up and crossed the three steps to the guest bed, which was thankfully clear of large boxes and debris. Propping his back to the headboard, he was careful to arrange the woman in his arms in a way that was hopefully comfortable. Even if it wasn't, it didn't look like she'd notice.

While she cried, he rubbed her back, traced her spine, ran his fingers through her tangled wet hair. He was a little astounded that anyone could cry so much for such an extended period of time. He didn't want to make light of the situation, but really… was it a situational thing or a woman thing? Maybe a combination of both? It had been a long time since he had been able to cry freely about something. He didn't even cry when Bumblebee shot his arm off. Granted, he was in shock at the time and had required lots of therapy in the months after. But could you really compare losing one's arm to losing your family?

"I'm so, so sorry this is happening to you, Mickey," he murmured, rocking back and forth. "I wish there was more I could do."

"Turn back time?" Mikaela hiccupped, her wet cheek pressed to his chest, the shell of her ear pressed over the beat of his heart.

Sam smirked weakly. "Sorry, Perceptor and Wheeljack haven't perfected their time machine yet."

Mikaela made a sound like a drowned laugh. "I'd be scared if they had."

"I think we'd all be running scared," Sam laughed quietly.

Rubbing her cheek to the warm, now damp, cloth of Sam's uniform shirt, Mikaela found herself comforted. Her heart still felt heavy and her eyes and nose felt red and raw, but having someone hold her was soothing. The heat radiating through his clothes was comforting, permeating right through her thin bathrobe and skin down to her chilled bones.

Her hands finally untangled from his shirt, letting her arms snaked around his sides to hold him close. Not a full out hug, but the possessive clutch of someone who just needed something to hold on to. Her breathing evened out, her heart rate settling to a pace a lot less painful against her ribcage, her pulse no longer throbbing with a vengeance through her veins and ringing in her ears. As soon as she felt able, she propped herself up high enough to brush a chaste kiss to the corner of Sam's mouth before flopping bonelessly back down to his chest.

"Thank for not leaving when I asked you to," she murmured.

"Any time," he replied.

She cleared her throat, feeling more than a little dehydrated now. Considering that she probably cried herself enough salt water to start her own person Red Sea, a little dehydration wasn't a surprise. With salty eyes and damp cheeks and a mouth that felt numb, fuzzy, and dry, she was left feeling terribly gross. She'd need another shower to slough it all off again.

"You want a glass of water?" Sam suddenly asked.

"That'd be nice," she sighed, letting herself be rolled to the side as Sam slid off the bed to willingly do her bidding.

Sam paused in the doorway, casting a furtive glance back at the body laying facedown on the mattress, looking more than a little ragged. "I'll be right back, alright?"

She waved a weak hand in his direction, not even bothering to raise an eye to him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Nodding, he slipped off down the hall, back to the kitchen. Tea cups, still vaguely warm, sat abandoned on the tabletop. A small plate of cookies sat in the center of the table- he couldn't remember if it had been there last time or set out before the others left. His stomach chose that moment to remind him he hadn't eaten all day, prompting him to steal several morsels and munch them quickly. While in the process of chewing and swallowing, he snatched a glass from his cupboards and went about filling it from the sink. Snatching three more crumbling biscuits from the plate for Mikaela in case she was a bit hungry, he wandered back up the steps to the guestroom.

"Water and almond cookies," he announced as he wandered over the threshold. He got no response. "Are you going to ignore me now?" If she was, she was doing a good job of it.

Setting the water and cookies down on the nightstand, he leaned over the woman, touching her shoulder.

"Oh," he said as he realized she was out cold. Not just a light doze, but the kind of heavy, dreamless sleep that rivalled coma patients and the dead. "Well, I guess you needed sleep more."

He rolled her over so she wasn't smothering herself in her own pillow and tucked her tangled hair away from her face. Going out to the hallway closet, he chose his favourite blanket- a black and yellow striped fleece he'd gotten as a joke to tease Bumblebee- and covered Mikaela with it. Making sure her hands and feet were tucked it, he brushed a kiss to her brow before backing off.

"Night, Mickey," he sighed quietly, at a loss as to what else to do. He still suffered his own private guilt at failing to be here when she needed him. He'd have to try harder next time. _A lot_ harder. However, he didn't need to change right that minute. He wandered down to his office on the first floor and worked on whatever would distract him the most until he fell asleep there.

* * *

Mikaela woke with a start. Pushing up, she squinted through the dark to try to discern where she was. Misshapen boxes littered everywhere, glinting in the clear light filtering in through the window, reminded her she was in the guestroom that was to be her room for the time being. Sighing, she flopping back to the mattress and pulled her blanket up to her chin. Black and yellow, like Bumblebee.

To the side was a glass of water left behind by Sam, and three thin little cookies. Realizing that she didn't remember him coming back with her water, and that she must have fallen asleep before his return, Mikaela belatedly reached for the glass and downed half. Her parched throat was grateful for it.

Not really hungry, she took the cookies anyways. They weren't overly sweet, but not bland like crackers either. She appreciated the gesture regardless, nibbling away at each cookie carefully. The rest of water was sipped down between cookies. By the time she was done, she was wake and suffering the need to get out of the room. Hobbling to her feet, she secured her robe tighter and dragged the bumblebee-patterned blanket around her like a cloak. The wooden floors were cold to the pads of her feet, creaking in certain places as she tried to be quiet. She wasn't really certain why she was trying to be so quiet either, since it didn't look that late out. Maybe nine or ten at night?

Sam should still be awake somewhere, but the house was quiet. No indication of a TV or radio being on, or even the shuffle of someone else's feet.

"Sam?" she called out, receiving no hint to his whereabouts. Shrugging, she snuck down the hall to the master bedroom, peering in. The bed was empty. Spying the digital clock on the bedside, it blared only a scant few minutes before ten.

Drawn by a want to find where Sam had disappeared to, Mikaela tiptoed down the steps to the first floor. All the lights were off except for a small sliver of yellowed light spilling out across the floor from Sam's office, the door standing ajar.

'_Why am I not surprised?' _Mikaela thought wryly as she stared. Half of her wanted to leave him to his all-important work, yet another part of her urged her to the door. His work was his life and it wasn't fair for her to hold that against him; it was just a part of who he was. She knocked lightly, and then stuck her head in without waiting for an invitation. What she saw waiting for her on the other side brought a stray giggle from her.

Poor Sam had fallen asleep at his desk. By the looks of things, he'd drifted right off in the middle of writing something too. His head was propped up in his left hand while his right was poised loosely over a sheet of paper, pen still laying between him fingers. With every breath, his head slid lower, coming closer and closer to having the end of the pen shoved up one nostril. Deciding to spare the poor guy of the indignity, Mikaela tiptoed closer to steal away the pen and set it safely away in the mug holding his other pens and pencils.

"Sam?" she whispered, prodding his arm.

He murmured in his sleep. Much to Mikaela's entertainment, his right hand started moving again like he was still trying to do his paperwork. That prompted a giggle and a roll of her eyes; you knew someone was a workaholic _when_…

"You're so hopeless," she murmured, laying a hand to his wrist to cease the work. Sam resisted, still trying to write those dream-reports. His mechanical arm was actually rather insistent on it. "Okay, really, it's time to stop working now. No wonder everyone thinks you needed a vacation." She lifted his arm completely off the desk. It took a few seconds for Sam's hand to realize it no longer had paperwork, or a desk, beneath it. With a muted grumble from Sam, all his limbs sagged.

"Are you going to wake up now, Sam?" Mikaela asked.

His continued sleeping was answer enough.

"Saaaammmmm," she prompted a little more insistently, aiding by shaking his arm. "Saaaaammmmmmmmm."

One dark eye pried open, spying her. As soon as recognition was made, both eyes snapped open and he shot to his feet as if his chair had been electrified.

"Bumblebee!" he exclaimed. "I was on my way up to see her, I swear!"

Mikaela glanced over her shoulder confusedly, finding no Bumblebee there. "Bad dream?" she prompted with a small giggle.

"Um… no, not really." Blinking rapidly, Sam's mind quickly caught up with reality, realizing that there was no way this was Bumblebee. She was too damn beautiful to be a hologram. He raked the room with a suspicious stare anyways, as if expecting his friend to appear out of thin air. Thankfully, there was not even a flicker of light to denote a hiding holo.

Mikaela watched the strange procession of emotions cross Sam's face, and then was quick to cast a glance of her own across the room again. "No one's here, Sam," she assured, even if she couldn't be one hundred percent sure about that.

"I know, I was just… making sure," he finished lamely, sliding back into his seat tiredly. It then occurred to him that it really was Mikaela standing in front of him and he almost shot out of his chair again. "What are you doing up? It looked like you were out for the night when I last checked."

"I woke up," she shrugged. "You weren't in your room, so I came looking for you…"

Sam's eyes widened a fraction. "Nightmare?"

"No, I'm fine," she assured, tugging her bumblebee-themed blanket closer around her. "Wanted to know where you were, is all." Her voice trailed off, unsure.

Sam straightened, stretching sore muscles abused from his previously awkward sleeping position. "I'm never far," he said. "There are only three places I ever go- here, my bed, and my office on base. You'll never have to look far if you want me for something."

Mikaela smiled at the cheerful self-admonishment Sam gave himself. He sounded partially rueful that his life revolved around such a limited sphere, and the other part being cheered that he was so available to Mikaela because of it.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, and then eyed the scattered work Sam had been using as a pillow for the last little while. "Why don't you finish up here and go to bed? There's no sense trying to finish whatever you were working on now- I'm pretty sure it's drool-soggy by now."

Sam laughed, surveying his mess. "It should be fine by morning," he conceded. "Give the drool time to dry." Lazy man that he was, he held out his hand as an invitation for Mikaela to come around and help him up. With a roll of her eyes, she came around and took his hand. Instead of tugging him up, though, she found herself pulled down. Her blanket fell from around her shoulders, only to be replaced with a pair of arms that were several times warmer. He nuzzled his way through her tangled hair to lay his face in the warm crook of her neck. His lips tickled as they moved, first placing a reverent kiss to her pulse and then he said,

"How are you feeling?"

"I don't feel much of anything right now," she replied neutrally. She was too tired to feel anything else, or perhaps she had felt _so much_ over the past couple of days that she was now in remission. Whatever the case, sitting in the eye of the storm was a relief to being flung into the wilds of gale force tears that had been hitting her. She wasn't happy, that was for sure, but at least she wasn't miserable anymore either.

"It'll get better," he murmured.

"I hope so," Mikaela sighed. "I can't imagine it getting much worse."

"I swear it'll get better." Sam's hands travelled over her back, bunching the material of her rumpled bathrobe. Mikaela shifted, reminded of the fact that she wore nothing beneath her robe as her skin sensitized to Sam's roving hands. He was only trying to comfort her, but here she was suddenly looking for a little more. She wanted to be able to stop thinking for a little while and simply feel the heat and rhythm of Sam's body sinking into hers, the friction of moving together.

Reining those wild thoughts in, Mikaela contented herself with the closeness Sam was giving her now. A good old fashioned backrub was nothing compared to sex, but it was better than nothing. She moved for a more comfortable position on his lap so that she was not teetering to fall off at every move. Sam shifted in time to her, seemingly made uncomfortable by her weight bearing down on his legs.

"Sorry- too heavy?" Mikaela apologised sheepishly, rising a little to relieve the burden.

"Not quite," Sam replied, sliding his hands to her hips. With barely any pressure at all, he guided her down and forward into the growing evidence of his arousal. He leaned back to judge Mikaela's reaction, finding her eyes widen for a moment and then darken as the meaning hit her.

"Oh," she breathed.

"It has a mind of its own," he shrugged guiltily.

"Don't worry about it," Mikaela assured. "I was kind of hoping for something to take my mind off things…"

It took a moment for Sam to clue in, but when he did he dared a smile. "I think I can help with that."

"Good." She smiled for him, a slow smile that was tired around the edges but was nonetheless inviting as the most seductive smile of a seducing courtier. Sam leaned up, brought his lips to hers, and melded them together. Mikaela framed Sam's face with his hands, returning the kiss with meaningful strokes of her own. Beneath her palms, his cheeks were rough with a day's worth of dark growth. The feeling invigorated her senses, waking them to experience more.

As Sam shifted, she moved as well. Their bodies came closer together. There was no denying now the hot, thick evidence of Sam's arousal as it strained against the material of his pants. If there had been any sense of weariness or exhaustion in him before, it was flooded out on the tide of incoming lust. Mikaela's presence did that to him, energized him in a way that he had not felt for a very long time. He wanted her to the exclusion of all else. She made him gloriously stupid on love, and he adored every moment of it.

Mikaela's lips left his, peppering along his jaw to his ear, nibbling the sensitive skin there. Her cheek rubbed to his, the softness of her skin a perfect foil to his roughened day-earned beard. She was as clever with her mouth as with everything else about her. She kissed down his pulse, suckling on the skin as greedily as anyone trying to escape into lust would. Her desire was heightened by Sam's immediate return of her attentions, instantly on par with her. He was just as hungry for her, just as eager to lose himself in her.

Sam tilted his head back as Mikaela delighted herself in laving the quick tempo of his pulse beating in his neck. Her hands skittered down his front, feeling through the cotton the twitch of flesh and muscle eager to be touched. His breath shortened into hot, wet panting. Mikaela's own desire was definitely putting an edge to his, adding a tang that made his head spin.

Not to mention the fact that they were having sex in his office. Scratch, _in his house_. Barring the usual female suspects from base, Mikaela was among the first and few Sam had ever invited into his house. She was certainly the first he'd ever tried to make love to anywhere in his house. All his previous conquests had been in impersonal hotel rooms or, to his shame, in the backseat of a good humoured Autobot. As Sam was becoming increasingly aware of the longer he stayed in her company, Mikaela was probably the only woman he had ever felt this way for.

"God," he gasped, voice gravelly, "I lo-."

Mikaela's lips were on his again, feverish in devouring the taste of his lips, tongue, and mouth.

Sam growled into the seductive haven of Mikaela's lush mouth, frustrated to be thwarted in announcing his true feelings- as lustfully motivated as they were. He wanted to say the words to her face, while she was wake, and not have her run for the hills. He wanted to have her forever in his life, his heart, his everything. He could taste something similar on her tongue, in the way she pressed against him, her murmured noises as his hands roved; she felt _something_ for him, but was scared to go beyond the barriers she'd erected long ago to prevent herself from being hurt. She was in enough pain as it was to not want to put her heart at further risk. And Sam, for all his love for her, couldn't bare the thought of hurting her, not even the unintentional hurt that would come by telling her that he loved her more than anything.

Channelling his energies and frustrations elsewhere, Sam's hands tightened on Mikaela's hips. The flesh, so warm even through the barrier of her thin robe, was seductively firm, so painfully seducing to touch. Long fingers kneaded into the smooth expanse of her skin, bringing the apex of her thighs flush against his erection. They moved together in an imitation of what they would be doing flesh-to-flesh soon. The shared friction was enough to send liquid fire spiralling through their blood.

Mikaela's robe parted so her heated bare skin now came flush against Sam's slacks. Her nerves felt as if they had exploded, thrown to the far corners of the galaxy. The hard, throbbing presence of Sam rubbing against her hot, aching center was nearly enough to throw her over the edge. The coarse material of his pants added a wild fervour to her blood. Her hips moved of their own volition, taking their pleasure from the sizable bulge straining behind Sam's zipper. She let herself be taken away by her feelings, swept away on wild lust. She revelled in being unreservedly adored and worshipped and pleasured; she trusted Sam to know exactly what she needed and to give it to her without reserve.

Her hands delved down between them, fumbling with his zipper. Sam was no help on that front, eagerly nosing aside Mikaela's robe so that he could mouth along her flushed breasts. His lips caught around a nipple, laving it liberally with an eager tongue. Mikaela moaned, forgetting about the damned zipper in favour of more pleasurable attentions. Those clever hands of his moved from her hips, blindly wriggling beyond the barrier of her robe and pressing it open.

"You're so beautiful," he said, eyes raking over her exposed form. Bruises and all, she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. An extraordinary sense of possession overtook him, spurring him to draw her body flush against his. His mouth crashed to her lips again, his tongue sliding against hers. One hand kneaded the naked swell of her ass while the other traced the heated junction between her thighs. Silken wet heat met him there, soft pink flesh swollen and hot. It was temptation enough to fell even an angel.

Mikaela curled tightly into Sam's front, her nerves electrified. A quiet, unbidden noise passed her lips, breathless and pleasured as Sam rubbed and caressed his way through the familiar folds of her nether region. Upon hearing her gasp, he was addicted to hear more, circling his thumb against her electrified bundle of nerves, long fingers teasing her slick entrance. She moved against his searching fingers, trying to guide him to where she wanted to be touched the most. Her mouth traced along his jaw, down his neck following his quickening pulse. Her hands gripped along the broad muscles of his shoulders, aroused by the fluid strength of muscle moving beneath heated flesh, hidden by his uniform shirt.

They were both strung so tight that by the time Sam was finally released from the confines of his pants, they were withering within the heat of their own skin. Their pulses raced. Their breathing was little more than animal panting, broken by a mewl, a growl, a grunt, a moan.

Mikaela eagerly rose to welcome Sam into her body, but wavered as the swivelling chair they perched on waggled warningly. It was not the kind of furniture build for such excursions. Even the arm rests dug into the sides of her legs and bit into her outer thighs. About to dismiss the reality and sink home on Sam's weeping staff, Sam himself was the one to snarl at the inconvenience of being trapped in such a confining chair.

Without warning, his arms came around her took her weight up and off as he came to his feet. He was so hard that the action caused almost more pleasure than pain. A squawk of surprise and protest rose from the female trapped in his arms, her body wriggling against his in a bid for release. With something akin to a growl and a hiss passing his lips, Sam set her to the floor but didn't give her much time to find her feet before he spun her around to face his desk. Her palms hit the ledge just as Sam's glided down to shape her ass, her thighs, parting them so that he could slide home into her sheath.

"Ah, God, _yes_!" Mikaela's head fell forward, her hair falling about her as a tangled curtain.

She wasn't given time to adjust, nor did she want time. She made her demands known immediately. Wriggling, panting, clutching tightly around the hard, throbbing invasion of his erection. He was deep inside her, scalding like a branding iron. And then he set the tempo- hard and fast. His hands were tight on her hips, holding her steady as he pistoned into her. She moved to the rhythm, the friction. The clutch of her inner muscles drove him harder, bringing out the hungry predator in him. He curved over her back, nosing aside her hair to mouth at her nape. Her knees nearly gave out, and would have too if it weren't for Sam's right arm quickly curling around her front to support her. His other hand released her hip and slide forward, between her thighs, his fingers finding the center of her pleasure. He circled that delicate nubbin, letting the force of him entering her from behind drive her forward into his finger.

Mikaela threw her head back, gasping for air as her whole body tightened. It felt as if the grip she had on the desk would crack the glass top. The bite of her still-healing palms only fed the wild storm inside her, raging to be released. She pushed back against Sam harder, grinding her bottom to his pelvis in a desperate bid for completion. She felt the shoulder of her robe be pulled back, Sam's mouth nibbling at the skin. The shock of teeth sent a thrill through her. He bit down, gentle but firm, and it threw her over the edge.

With a strangled cry, the world exploded into a thousand facets of light, colour, and sensate feeling. Sam followed her over not even a second later, unable to resist the delirious pleasure her inner muscles wrung from him as they milked him dry.

The world did not come back to them for a long time, leaving them suspended in a timeless world where there was only the warmth and closeness of the other. Their breathing slowly returned normal, and then their eyes remembered how to work. The sweat borne from their rigorous loving making drew the chill of the night across Mikaela's flesh, spurring her to gather her robe again and cinch it tight. Sam slid out her slowly, if not a little reluctantly, tucking his flaccid self away and zipping himself back up. They found their tongues both too thick and dry to attempt words.

Mikaela turned slowly to meet Sam's gaze, who met her eyes with a half-lidded stare of unadulterated awe and adoration. There was less than a foot of distance between them, but in that moment, she found that too far. Taking the half-step that brought her back into the trembling circle of his arm, she stretched onto her toes and took his mouth again. It was a breathless, ardent kiss that surprised Sam at first, but quickly had him melting into it.

When they finally gave into the light-headedness that came with a lack of oxygen, they parted, sucking in gasps of desperately needed cool air.

In the interim as they caught their breaths, Sam glanced about his office and found that he rather liked the idea of making love to Mikaela in here. It was high time he did something else in the damned room other than work. In fact, as long as Mikaela was in his house, he planned to make love to her on a regular basis in here. No, scratch that, he was going to make love to her on every surface of his house until she was so ingrained into the wood that she could never go away. God, he loved the sound of that. He loved the sounds Mikaela made while he thrust into more, and was definitely planning on hearing more of it that night.

In the aftermath of everything, Mikaela pleasantly found her mind empty and fuzzy and warm. Her bones felt like jelly and she was delightfully sore in all the right places, but damn if she didn't feel good. Great. Sex with Sam proved to be the perfect temporary amnesia. There was nothing wrong with the world in that floating, hazy patch of time.

She gasped as she felt a familiar prod against her lower belly. She was quick to look down, and then up again into Sam's impishly delighted eyes.

"Again?" she wondered, surprise melting into a strange, addictive delight.

"Yeah." Sam grinned handsomely, thrusting against her with no secret as to what he wanted _again_. "Gotta make up for not being here for you earlier."

"You're definitely here now." She moaned, finding her skin becoming galvanized once more.

"Damn straight," he groaned, backing her to the door and into the hall. "And I'm not going anywhere. Not any time soon."

As it turned out, they didn't go anywhere farther than the hallway floor for a good long while, although they did eventually make it to Sam's bed sometime before dawn.


	19. Chapter 19

It's been too long since I've had a moment to sit down to this sucker. Now that As We Come Together is finished, I can now put more mind to this! Only a couple more chapters until I wrap this up. ^_^

Thank you to my most wonderful and patient reviewers:

**Oceanlover14**- Thanks so much~

**Leoshunny1985**- Thanks~!

**Nienne Tinehtele**- Heh, glad to know this story still has readers. ^_^ Bumblebee's a naughty bot that Sam really has to keep an eye on. =P

**Theshadowcat-** No, not nice, but Bumblebee was going for the most effective approach, not the softest. =P

**Bigguy204**- Haha, glad you liked the chapter, and the quote you pointed out. Everything was fun to write. =)

**Bluebird Soaring**- Bumblebee is all about getting Sam sorted out and straightened up. Let's just hope Bumblebee doesn't drive his humans crazy while he's trying to play forceful match-maker. =P

**Katanagirl16**- Aww, that's wonderful to hear! It was such fun writing the chapter; hearing that others enjoyed it is a true delight! =D

**Caz**- Sorry, I can't undo the whole sobsack thing, but can I offer a tissue? ^_^; I can only hope that a new chapter will cheer your mood. =)

**Spedclass**- Thanks~

**Supermel Returns**- Haha, hearing about your excitement in seeing a new post for this story makes writing it worth it. =P I live to lighten other people's days with my writing. ^_^ And since you like the sex so much, you'll be happy to hear that there is some featured in this new chapter as well. =P

**Sutzina Zion**- Heh, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. It was way too much fun to have everyone torture Sam. And, of course, it was even more fun having Sam comfort Mikaela. Here's hoping you continue to enjoy! ^_^

**Lecidre**- It's great that you got a kick out of Bumblebee and his hologram antics. Him and Sam are such good friends, Sam's bound to forgive him for it... eventually. XD I'm glad that you enjoy the sexy, steamy sex scenes I write. A lot of people are embarrassed to comment on them, so it's a joy when someone takes the time to say that I'm doing it right. =P

**Mizzle Fo' Rizzle**- I think Sam is just that kind of man- the kind you wanna slap one minute and kiss the next. He's got a special kind of charm. =P

**FunkyFish1991**- What, my friend? You not analyze something? Say it isn't so! D8 Does the sex make you so giggly that you can't bring yourself to do it? Is it embarrassing? Oh! I know! If you analyze it too closely, you'll realize that my sex is way better than anything that will ever happen in reality and it will ruin and disappoint you for the rest of your life! 8D If any of that is true, I feel bad for you (not really), since this chapter is again making with the sexy time! XD Do enjoy, my fishy friend! Do enjoy!

**Transform. For. The. Better.**- Glad you enjoy the story. I really do hope to continue whenever I have the time.

**Ice around the moon**- Bumblebee is just one of those priceless kinds of mechs... ^^;

**Impeccableblahs**- Why, thanks you~ That's very kind. ^_^

Dedicated to Gena Showalter, author of the most amazing series ever: _Lords of the Underworld_. Best. Books. Ever. I swear by them. They are sex and inspiration incarnate!

Read, Review, & Enjoy~

**Chapter 19**

In the aftermath of a night spent revelling in each other, Sam's morning wakeup responses were a little sluggish.

The sun was already up over the horizon by the time his eyes cracked open. It took several moments of laying flat on his back to remember where he was, how he got there, and why he felt so damned good. Oh god, did he feel _good_. Eventually, he clued in to what time it was. Late. Late. Late. Maybe not by normal human standards, but certainly by his when he had such a strict work schedule to keep. There was no hope of salvaging breakfast from Maggie and Epps' place now. There'd be nothing but cold crumbs for him to lick off plates. Not the worst thing in the world to happen to him, but still...

What could be worse? Being late for his duties, that's what. He was _never_ late for duty. It was practically a sign of the apocalypse. Hell, people on base were probably wondering where he was. They were probably freaking out over the fact that he hadn't shown his face yet. Any moment now, an Autobot was going to come walking by his window looking for him.

Had he mentioned he had a _tiny_ workaholic problem?

As rationality set he, he knew no Autobot was going to come looking for him. Except maybe Bumblebee, but he did that anyways. Aside from him, no one was going to come looking for him. It was, after all, a wasted effort. If he wasn't in his office in the subterranean base, he was in his office here. That was his life, as he had pointed out numerous times. Although, with Mikaela now with him... Sam grinned wolfishly. If he wasn't in his office, he was probably somewhere else in the house abusing the furniture with her in the best ways possible.

Just the thought of the ways they had abused furniture the night before was making him hard. Oh god, did they ever abuse the furniture. And oh sweet Primus, were the memories making him horny.

"Damn," he cursed, levering up to roll out of bed. Waking his woman up once take the edge off during the night was bad enough. Twice was getting needy. A third time would have been just plain rude. A tired groan sounded from somewhere beneath the covers, half-annoyed and half-asleep. Sam jolted. "The hell-? _Oh_."

Just as his internal alarm clock had been a little sluggish waking him, his normally sharp brain appeared to be running a few circuits short of a full circuit board. If he had spent the night between the legs of the sexiest woman alive, working her so hard she forgot her own name, it was within reason to suppose she was still around. In his bed. Making that sexy little moaning noise. And, if his memories of how wild they were last night were correct, she was probably going to walk funny for a couple days, too. He should feel guilty, but damn if he didn't feel a good amount of satisfaction and male pride at the thought. Because, seriously, he'd worked her so good, she'd be feeling him for weeks in the best kinds of ways.

Quirking an eyebrow, he tugged up the edge of the sheets and peered under. Sprawled under the covers was a dark head of hair resting on his abdomen, mouth just above his navel, one arm slung around his waist. Seeing as the view was too good to pass up, he lifted the sheet higher to get a better look. He caught the glorious sight of one of her breasts pressed against him, now bearing a hickey. A hickey he had taken get joy in giving. Oh yeah, he claimed that perfect breast as his. Marked it. And if he wasn't mistaken, there was a matching mark of ownership on the other. He could feel one of her legs curled over his, drawing him close. Her other leg stuck out straight, toes peeking out from under the sheet at the end of the bed. Every warm breath she exhaled tickled him in a way that felt too good, and was so wrong because she was still asleep. No taking advantage of sleeping sexy women.

Sam sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, trying desperately to command away the erection that was quickly tenting the sheets. Mikaela wriggled, made a soft mewling noise as she snuggled closer. He flopped his head back and glared at the ceiling. "Oh, come on- I'm not a saint. Giving me this is just damn cruel."

Mikaela wrinkled her nose as cool fresh air and sunlight assaulted her. As far as she was concerned, it was far too early to be up when it only felt like they'd laid down to sleep a few hours ago. She scooted deeper into the dark haven, the arm around Sam's waist cinching a smidgen tighter. Her mouth, those warm, damp breaths she was exhaling, coming ever closer to an increasingly prominent part of Sam's anatomy.

Trying to be a gentleman, Sam attempted to scoot away. He got a weak slap for his troubles, followed by a murmured curse he couldn't understand.

"Time to get up, love," Sam laughed, wiggling around. Bad move. _Bad move_. Too much friction. Too much warm, soft sexy woman inching closer to his cock. He crossed his eyes, nearly groaning. "Mickey, _please_, you gotta get up."

"No. 'S too early," Mikaela mumbled in reply, followed by a hot rush of damp breath that curled around Sam's thickening shaft like a teasing caress. So good it nearly made his eyes roll back in his head. Enduring it was cruelty incarnate. Worse yet, Mikaela didn't even know what she was doing to him. Not yet.

"Actually," Sam began, swallowing hard when his voice cracked a little. "Actually, it's just the right time. You're getting up _right now_."

She shook her head, burrowing deeper into the warm darkness, her soft, bare flesh rubbing like soft satin against his skin. "You get up. I'm fine here," she mumbled.

A muscle ticked beneath one eye. He could hear hear his teeth grinding. "Believe me, I'm already _up_."

Mikaela flapped a hand ineffectually, clearly not translating the true meaning. "_Too early_," she groaned, hoping the sheet would be lowered again. Just a little more sleep, that's all she asked. A few more moments to bask in the wonderful bone-deep satisfaction weighing down her body.

"Too early for you, maybe," Sam sighed, that tick beneath his eye getting worse. "As much as I'd like to roll you around in the sheets again, I don't have the option." He bounced and jostled a few times in an attempt to "gently" dislodge Mikaela from his person. She hung on surprisingly determinedly for someone half-asleep. She'd have to be deaf, blind, and numb not to realize the extreme case of morning wood he was currently suffering from as she bounced around, brushing up against him with her too soft, too tempting skin.

"_Stop it,"_ she whined.

"Not until you get off," Sam groaned in exasperation.

There was a slight pause, and then Mikaela laughed. She sounded a little more wake now. "You got me off enough last night, remember?"

Sam smirked wryly. "Haven't forgotten."

"Wanna even the score?" She then made it perfectly clear she knew about his state of arousal by unwrapping her arm from around his waist and wrapping that hand around his cock. It strained under her touch. The tip weeping for her. "Feels like you could use a helping hand." She squeezed the base, sliding her hand up deliciously slowly.

In that instant, Sam's eyes crossed and he was pretty sure he caught a flash of God. Every muscle went rigid, his head falling back on a moan. Under her touch, his cock twitched, hardening, thickening still. It had a mind of its own, throbbing to the point of aroused pain. His hips moved, seeking friction, hoping for more. Anything to bring sweet relief.

Mikaela was not so acquiescing this early in the morning, having been awoken before she was ready. Her slender eyebrow arched at him, eyes catlike. Her hand did not move away from, but it did not pleasure him either. She was teasing him, the little vixen.

"Don't be cruel," Sam groaned, sweat now forming a thin sheen over his skin. Her hand tightened around him. He shifted his hips, hoping for more friction. Her hand squeezed him, but nothing more. It felt like his blood was on fire. "You're killing me here."

"You're the one who woke me up, _twice_, last night to fool around."

His heart skipped a beat, a little panicked. "This is revenge?" Did his voice just crack? Gods, he wanted her bad. Wanted to flip her over and pound into her until they both saw stars. Yeah, he wanted her _bad_.

"Pay back's a bitch, isn't it?" Mikaela replied coyly, her soft, lush lips curving up in a smile that sent a shiver down Sam's spine. She had the power now and knew it. His traitorous cock twitched again, not above begging to be touched. Her hand eased over him again, making the deep, hot ache burgeoning in Sam so much worse. Worse and better. Each glide of her hand made Sam's eyes roll back, his hips arching into the rhythm.

"_Mickey."_ A prayer? A curse? He didn't know. All he knew was that her name sounded good on his tongue, and her hand felt so good on his straining shaft. If only he could get rid of that niggling thought in the back of his mind. Wasn't there somewhere he had to do? Something important? ...something more important than a mind-blowing hand job by the world's worst cock tease? "I got- uh, I got-."

"Work?" she offered lazily, tilting her head, teasing eyes still watching him from the dark haven offered by the sheets. Another lazy glide up and down his shaft. She lingered at the weeping head, thumb swirling over the slit.

"_Yes._" Nothing but a hiss out his mouth as fire shot through his veins.

"Too bad." Her tongue darted out, tracing a wet line from root to tip, laving the head with the same care her thumb had shown moments before. He was salty-sweet. The beginnings of a possible addiction? Maybe. She took a second taste just to be sure, lingering at the tip to swirl with her tongue.

The sudden strangled noise that erupted from Sam's lips was satisfaction incarnate. There was something about having such a strong man under her power that was... _intoxicating_. He made her feel so good. Made her forget everything else around her. She was protected with him. Cared for. And... and... Gods, she was _loved_ when she was with him. He had given her exactly what she had needed last night. Hot and wild. Sweet and tender. Kissed her where and when she needed to be kissed. Held her. Worshipped her. To give him a little in return was the least she could so.

Strong fingers tunnelled through her hair, massaging her scalp. Urging her closer. "Mickey- oh god, _Mickey_."

The way he said her name like that was definitely something she could get used to. She licked him again, basking in what noises she drew from him. Thick, heady noises that vibrated through him. Like his whole world revolved around her. Arousing her in return. There was no way in hell she could be half-sleep anymore, not with this man's cock so near her mouth. His urging in her ears. She could hear his ragged panting, could feel his stare as he burned a hole through the back of her skull.

Just to tease him, she took her time tracing every detail of his shaft with her tongue, laving over prominent veins, nibbling the smooth flesh. Her hands came up to caress his balls, drawn tight and smooth to the base of his erection. Sam's whole body jerked as she fondled him. Pre-cum continue to pearl at the tip of his shaft, only to be lapped up by Mikaela's clever tongue. A breathless curse fell from Sam's lips. The fingers in her hair, wrapped around her skull, urged her closer, begging for more. His obvious pleasure became her own. She hummed while moving her lips over the rigid length of Sam's erection, the vibration passing through the heated flesh and resonating throughout Sam's entire body.

He throbbed for her. Ached. Every inch of him was on fire, every muscle cramping with the intensity of his arousal. The anticipation of her hot mouth on him, swallowing him, riding him, was almost too much to bear. "Mikaela, please- just... _please_-!"

To his horror, she stopped. She blinked up at him and offered a smile that almost had him coming. Those lush red lips so close to his dick, so close to taking him inside that wet, wanton heaven of her mouth and sucking. The wet, smooth glide that would follow. The insanity-inducing suction.

"'_Please_' what, Sam?" she asked, anything but innocent. Her lips moved in a hypnotic fashion, inviting images of her mouth riding him. To rev his engine a little higher, her naughty hands continued to dabble across his flesh, caressing and tempting. Turning him on like no other. Much more and he really would explode.

"Suck me," he choked brokenly, trying to heave in enough air to think straight. "Suck my- God, yes! That!" Her tongue drew over his blunt head again, blasting every last thought out of his skull. He was pretty sure she even managed to blow brain matter out his ears.

"Since you asked so nicely," Mikaela purred. She rose up like the vixen she was, all dark hair, honeyed eyes, and a flushed face revealing how much pleasure she was taking in the act. Her mouth descended, kissing his tip once, licking, and then swallowing him as deep as he would go. Another curse fell from Sam's lips, his head falling back.

Mikaela smiled inwardly, unable to smile outwardly when her lips were being stretched to accommodate Sam's girth. A small "Mmmmmmm' sound rose in her throat, and she knew Sam could feel it by the way his hands tightened in her hair. She didn't fear being crushed by him, not even by his Cybertronian arm. He'd never hurt her on purpose, that much she was sure of. It was a deep down instinctual knowing that she was completely and utterly safe with this man, even when he was reduced to his most base, visceral state.

Wrapping a hand around the base so he didn't thrust up too far, she allowed herself to enjoy the act of pleasuring him. It might have been titled 'payback' for waking her twice to ride her senseless, but she was also returning a favour. He got her mind off things she wanted to forget, and she was going to get his mind off things everyone else wanted him to forget for once. Like work.

Obviously, as he thrust into her mouth, unable to remember his own name, Mikaela had succeeded in making him forget more than just work.

With one hand working the thick base, her mouth still riding him as deep as he could go, her other hand cleverly sneaked up and starting playing again with his heavy sac. His whole body jerked, brought to the very limit. His hands moderated between gripping her hair and massaging her scalp. On every panted breath was a an impassioned curse as his hips pistoned upwards, seeking completion. In her mouth, as her tongue swirled and danced, she felt his cock throb, tension finally winding him so tight he could be snapped.

And snap he did.

With a roar, he climaxed. Hot seed shot into her mouth, Without a word, she swallowed every drop. Licked him clean. Only came up when the hands at the back of her head ease, drawing her up. She straddled his lap, settling her weight comfortably. She had to bite her bottom lip as her heated core was brushed by cool morning air and Sam's hot flesh. To her satisfaction, Sam looked like his very life force had been sucked out of him. Flushed and boneless and sated as he lay against the mattress trying to catch his breath. Dark eyes met hers, revealing unparallelled adoration in their depths. It was enough to make her a little lightheaded. Turn her on a little more.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, though quickly discovered he couldn't think of anything to say. What was there to say? _'Damn, Mikaela, you just about sucked my soul out_'? Yeah... no. Instead, he wrapped his hand around her nape and drew her into a kiss. Her lips parted for him without resistance, welcoming him in to the sweet haven of her mouth. It wasn't an instantly wild kiss. Not driving them insane with lust. Nor was it chaste in any way. It was a savouring kiss, drawing out the moment, lingering in the afterglow of it.

Because he hadn't had the chance to explore her body yet this morning, having been otherwise thoroughly occupied, his hands moved now. Roving over soft, sweet flesh. Kneading delicious curves. One would think he might have had enough from all their play the night before, but the opposite was true. He would never have enough. Even if he had her every day for the rest of his life, he didn't think it would ever be enough.

One hand cupped her ass, sinking his fingers into the perfect flesh. Soft yet firm. His other hand delved into the sweet spot at the apex of her thighs. She was so wet she was dripping. The moment he touched her, it was as if he branded her. And she branded him. So hot. So wet. Too perfect to resist. Unable to help himself, he explored those silken folds, Her spine arched, head falling back on a moan.

"Sam," she breathed, fingernails digging into his back.

Sam watched her expressions change, her eyes shut, her mouth parting just a tiny bit. It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. He let his fingers glide through the wet heat, watching pleasure bloom across Mikaela's face and body. Her golden skin had already been flushed, but now it glowed. Her cheeks were stained pink. As she panted, shifting her hips in encouragement for Sam's fingers to touch her where she most needed, her nipples darkened, pearling. That sexy blush spread everywhere, daring Sam to kiss every inch of her pinked skin.

"You are so gorgeous," he groaned. "I could watch you like this all day."

The nails in his back sharpened, cutting into the muscle. The bite of the them brought a new edge to the enjoyment Sam was soaking up. Wrenched his arousal just a little higher, even though he'd just gotten off.

"That's right, sweetheart, enjoy yourself," he murmured, leaning in to capture one nipple between his lips. Having them so close, thrust so near his mouth... That was too much temptation. Her breasts were the kind men worshipped. On a daily basis, as Sam most readily wanted to. The taste of them. Their texture. The sounds he could draw from her when he sucked, nipped, and teased them. It was a sin not to suck on them. Lave them with as much attention has she had done for his cock.

Without warning, he sank a finger into her. She was so wet, it was like sliding into hot silk glove. A glove he never wanted to take off. He pressed a second finger. A third. Her breathy cries were his reward, riding his hand with abandon. Bucking. Grinding.

Sam drank in every detail. Revelled in it. God, turnabout was such sweet fair play.

Around his fingers, he could feel her inner muscles closing in. Fluttering. Never quite there, but so close. Her arms wove tight around his neck, dislodging her breast from his mouth, only to replace it with her tongue. She kissed him recklessly, a little desperately. His name kept falling from her lips on every downward stroke.

She, too, was slicked with sweat. Her hair was a dark halo around her beautiful face. Pressing so close to him, the abrasion of her nipples against his chest added just the right amount of friction.

"Need help going over, Mickey?" Sam murmured, swallowed thickly.

"I'm so close," she groaned, chewing her bottom lip mercilessly.

"This might help," Sam purred, drawing his hand away for a moment. He ignored Mikaela's groan of protest, licking his thumb quickly before sliding it the length of her body back to the cleft between her legs. His fingers slid back into her sheath, his wet thumb circling her swollen clit.

Star erupted behind her eyes. She soared into a climax on a gasp, letting go as her body felt like it liquefied and boiled over. And when she came down from the high, she simply allowed herself to drape across Sam's body and lounge there. When every bone in her body felt like it had turned to jell-o, she really wasn't going anywhere anyways. Sam, of course, did not seem to mind having a beautiful woman draped over him.

"That was the best morning nookie. Ever." Sam announced, lazily tracing two fingers up and down Mikaela's spine. "I officially think I will never be the same after that blow job."

"Glad I could set the bar so high," Mikaela replied, laughing languidly.

"No one will ever compare." Sam's low laugh was nothing but a sexy rumble in her ear that sent a shiver down her spine. He kissed her temple, rubbing his cheek to her hair.

Mikaela said nothing, her arms wrapping a little tighter around him. Sooner or later, she would leave. Sooner or later, they'd be faced with other people in the world. Even then, it was doubtful anyone could ever compare to what they had now.

When neither of them felt like moving, they gave into the urge for after-sex cuddling. Sam scooted down the mattress, laying back against the warm sheets, bringing Mikaela down with him. He arranged her as he wanted, draped across him. Her curved pressed into him, delighting every inch of his skin where they touched. Their legs twined. The heat still radiating off their bodies kept the morning chill at bay. A few silent kisses were shared. Soft, slow kisses. Before they knew it, they were asleep again. A deep sleep. Sam vaguely woke an hour later to use the bathroom, but promptly crawled back into the bed and wrapped himself around Mikaela afterwards. Half the morning passed them by like that.

Nothing had ever felt better.

Mikaela finally awoke for real when she felt herself being jostled. Coming to her senses, she realized Sam was trying to wiggle his way out of bed. He wasn't having much luck when her arms and one leg were locked around him securely. Poor guy looked like he was trying everything short of using his Cybertronian arm to pry her off.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, one eyebrow arching. She didn't loosen her limbs for him.

Sam jolted when he realized she was awake. His cheeks stained pink. "Oh- uh, you know, underground- on base. For..."

"Work?"

He flinched. "Yeah."

She snorted, pursing her lips. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Sam hung his head. "_You_ know I have a serious problem. _I_ know I have a serious problem. I probably need an intervention or something, but can we make an issue of this some other time? I kind of left some things unfinished last night, and I don't want everything getting backed up because I left it so long. There are reports, paperwork, tactical intel... Plus, I have a draft manuscript I have to work on, and-."

"Stop."

He blinked. "What?"

"Stop." She raised a hand, palm out, for a visual of _stopping_. "I think you need a vacation as much as I need someone to take my mind off things."

"It's not that easy," Sam sighed.

"You seemed to think it was that easy when you took me away from my work and held me as your sexual hostage in a hotel," Mikaela countered, sounding a little miffed. Raising a supercilious eyebrow did not help matters. "Besides, I'm not going to sit around all day waiting for you to come home just so you can have your way with me. I'm not going to be your house bunny while I'm here. I don't roll that way."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "I never said I wanted you to be a house bunny. You're free to do whatever you want."

She pursed her lips. "And if I want to do you?"

"Um..." Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose. Tempting offer. So. Tempting.

"And what about taking me away from Oscar and Gloria, huh? No compensation for that? Not even a day?"

Sam's eyes flashed wide, guilt riding him. "Mikaela..."

"Low blow, I know, but still..." she shook her head. "It would be nice if you stuck around for one day for me. You wanted me here so bad? Well, show me. Stay with me- just for today. Until I'm settled. Be mine for today."

As flattered as he was at hearing such wonderfully stubborn-possessive words, Sam made a noise of exasperation. "This is work, Mickey. I _have _to go to work."

An indelicate snort rose from the woman. "Why? Will the world end if you don't show up?"

"Maybe… I don't know. I've never been late to find out, and personally I would like to keep that record going." He managed to sit up and lay his back against the headboard. Mikaela scooted down so she could fold her arms over his lap and watch him from that angle, the sharpness of her eyes reflecting in the day's light.

"Can't you take just _one_ day off?" she asked, frowning.

"I'd love to, but…" His heart melted for her. He wanted to be there for her, he really did, but... but…

"_But?"_ Mikaela repeated expectantly. "Wouldn't you rather stay here with me? Right here?" She laid a tempting kiss to the ridge of his abdomen, her gaze never leaving him.

"That's a very tempting offer..." Sam replied swallowing thickly. Had he been standing, those honeyed eyes staring up at him would have been enough to bring him to his knees. As it was, his resolve to go to work was quickly eroding. If this was what it was going to be like if he managed to convince her to stay with him, then he was going to have to do some rescheduling of his work schedule; no more morning shifts. Ever. And it was going to be damn near impossible to tell her no for anything.

"Of course, if you don't stay, I'll have to figure something else out to do." She slanted him a look that clearly mean_ someone_ else to do, not just something. She knew it was just the right bait to tease him. "There are plenty of good looking guys on base, aren't there? I could always ask one of the Autobots... I'm sure they'd be fine lending a hologram to stay with me." Her smile curved a fraction wider. "Or how about Viktor? What do you think he's doing today?"

Sam's mind was suddenly made up. "You know what? They can spare me for a day; you need me here more, right?"

"Right," Mikaela laughed, nodding. It felt really good to laugh. To be honest, she felt good all over. She didn't want the feeling to end.

"And if they _really_ needed me, they know exactly where to find me," Sam concluded.

"You'll be right here. With me." She pushed herself up and leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers in a very enticing dance of mouths. Just as Sam began to lean into it, she pulled away and settled back down into the heat that permeated the sheets, curling into the delicious warmth that radiated off of Sam's skin. "You know, if everyone knew it was this easy to get you to quit being such a workaholic, they would have fixed you a long time ago," she teased.

"I don't think your methods of persuasion would have worked so well is Will or Epps had tried them," Sam replied dryly.

"I'm sure they would have put effort into it," Mikaela replied amusedly.

"But they completely lack your natural grace," Sam countered. "Never mind their horrible feminine charm. It's the stuff Drag Queens are made of."

Mikaela tossed her head back and laughed. "This is the most bizarre pillow talk I have ever had with anyone," she admitted, grinning.

"Get used to it, sweetheart. Bizarre pillow talk practically comes written on my warning label," Sam laughed.

"Good, at least I'll never be bored." She loved every minute of it. The more bizarre it was, the better.

"Stick around for a while and you're bound to have more," Sam joked. "What was it you said about me on our first date? That I was the strangest boy you'd ever met? Truer words have never been spoken."

Mikaela blinked in surprise, recognizing her own words. It was hard to forget them, or any other detail of that night. It was practically seared into the back of her head. "I said that the night Bumblebee fought Barricade in front of us."

Sam grinned. "Sure did."

"I can't believe you remember that!"

"It's not like I'd ever forget it," Sam countered, still grinning. "I had an awesome car, two giant alien robots fighting to the death, and the hottest chick on the planet with me. Best. First. Date. Ever."

Mikaela shook her head. "I can't believe you think of that as our first date. That's sad."

Sam shrugged. "A guy's gotta start somewhere."

"You are _still_ the strangest man I have ever met," Mikaela laughed.

"I can live with that," Sam chuckled in return. He slipped his hands beneath her arms, pulling her up for another kiss. This one was just as enticing as the first, just as heart-stoppingly wonderful. Only this time, he didn't let it end so soon. One hand slid up to cup the back of her head as he rubbed his tongue to hers. Even after their sexual escapades of the morning, not to mention the marathon the night before, one would have thought they'd be too tuckered out for another round. But here they were, feeling the heat rise in them again.

Just as the world was slipping away into sensate feeling, noise from the floor below them ended their kiss. For a moment, their eyes met, trying to discern what had distracted them. The noise below came again, unmistakably coming through the floor.

"Someone's downstairs," Sam murmured, brows furrowed as he tried to think of who it could be. The Autobots didn't care much for human propriety and would have just come to the window or materialized in the room as holograms. Will, Epps, or any other human would have banged through the floor or shouted obnoxiously to get his attention.

"Should we... go see who it is?" Mikaela wondered.

"I'll go see," Sam said, easily plucking Mikaela up and placing her to the side. He snatched up a pair of boxers, slid them on, and silently stalked to the door.

As much as she appreciated the gesture, Mikaela wasn't about to be left behind. She wasn't a house bunny. She wasn't some helpless female. Yeah, she wasn't about to stick her neck out for the war, but that didn't mean she wouldn't follow Sam downstairs to investigate a possible burglar. Swiping one of Sam's t-shirts from the floor, tugging it on until it fell halfway down her thighs, Mikaela slithered out into the hall and quickly sneaked up behind Sam's back.

"It can't be a thief, can it?" she wondered, causing Sam to jump when he realized she was so close.

"No, no one would be able to get close without the Autobots knowing," Sam replied lowly, prowling his way down the stairs. He tried to usher her back, but she fought by grabbing one of his nipples and twisting. She won. Sam didn't try to send her back again.

Mikaela leaned in. "One of the Autobots, then? Or the humans?"

"Most likely one of them," Sam sighed. "Can't be anyone else."

"Then why are we whispering?"

He paused, then shrugged. "I have no idea."

Now lurking just beyond the entrance to the kitchen, they could clearly make out the sounds of two bodies shuffling about, and the odd flap of wings. Every few moments, there'd be a chink of dishes, a brief whiff of warm food. Someone would shush the others. Sometimes a giggle would erupt. Within a minute, Sam had a pretty good idea of who was invading his house. What he didn't expect was for the trio to come around the corner so unexpectedly.

Annabelle was first, Billy's hand in hers. Barnaby wrapped around her shoulders. She took one look at Sam and shrieked in surprise, jumping back. Barnaby gave a piercing bat-shriek, flapping wildly in surprise. Billy gasped, eyes wide, before turning tail and bolting out the front door.

"Traitor!" Annabelle yelled, launching after him.

"Wait for me!" Barnaby cried, flapping out the front door after them.

They were out the door for less than ten seconds before Billy darted back in, zoomed into the kitchen, grabbed an action figure off the table, and ran back out again. It all happened so fast that Sam and Mikaela barely had enough time to blink and process what was happening before it was over. Leaning into the kitchen, a small bounty was left on two plates for each of them to enjoy breakfast. The food was still steaming for them. A small note was left between the plates, Sam's name neatly scrawled across it. Wandering over, Sam plucked up the note, skimmed it, then smirked.

Curious, Mikaela stole it and read: _"Don't bother coming to work." _She raised an eyebrow. "Well, I guess that's settled, huh?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks stained pink. "Apparently everyone knows what's best for me."

"Yes, they do. And everyone just lets themselves into your home whenever they want, too?" Mikaela wondered, unable to hide a humoured smile. She smiled even broader when Sam gave a sheepish nod.

"I don't exactly need to lock my doors around here," he admitted.

"I'm sensing many awkward moments in the future," Mikaela intoned.

It was Sam's turn to laugh, eyes brightening. "On a base full of too-nosey humans and Autobots? Count on it."

"I'm..." she paused, biting her bottom lip for a moment. She cast her eyes around the homey kitchen, the food given to them by friends, the distant rumble of engines as aliens tooled around outside. "I'm looking forward to it."


	20. Chapter 20

Back again, peoples~ Always with a new chapter, yes? Hope you all enjoy!

**JJ**- Thank you so much~ I do try to deliver quality work. ^_^

**Katanagirl16**- Awww, thanks so much! I'm glad you like the writing. =) And yes, I am a girl, so being the Queen is no trouble for me. =P

**Bigguy204**- Goodness, thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed all of those aspects of the chapter~! =)

**GBscientist**- I'm all for breaking up happy moments, but sometimes people just have to have a little bit of happy calmness in their lives. It won't last forever, but enjoy it while it does. ^_^

**Divinations**- My goodness, to receive a review at any time is an honour and a delight, so I'm glad you decided to review at all. I'm flattered that you like my depictions of Sam and Mikaela as they struggle with themselves and each other. I hope you continue to enjoy the story to the end. ^_^

**leoshunny1985**- Thank you~

**head in the clouds 14**- Thank you so much~

**Supermel Returns**- Hahahaha, how invigorating it is to hear someone enjoyed the sex as much as you did! XD It's unfortunate that Megan Fox will not be returning to the Transformers franchise, but rest assured that Mikaela Banes is going no where in my writing. She's staying put, preferably with Sam! XD

**Sutzina Zion**- I'm glad you enjoyed so many aspects of the chapter. It was a delight to write the sex, and always a treat to hear that readers delighted in the sexcapades as well. XD

Read, Review, & Enjoy, my friends~

**Chapter 20**

While schemes, trickery, and a bone-melting blow job had worked just fine the day before at keeping Sam with her, Mikaela had to admit that trying for sexcapades two days in a row was stretching things.

For one, Sam was a busy person. He really did have a lot do. The longer she kept him away from his work, the more it piled up. Keeping him distracted for too long was just asking for a fall. And Sam wasn't the kind of person to dump all his work on another colleague. He could send some of his tactical evaluations to Prowl, who would go over them with a fine-toothed comb anyways, but that was the extent of it. Everything else he'd do himself, whether out of guilt or an inability to relinquish control like that.

Another reason Mikaela didn't try to keep Sam for a second day in a row was because she was damn tired. Tired in a good way, yes, but still _exhausted_. Every inch of her felt deliciously sore. Sam had worked her so well, if felt as if he had imprinted himself on her skin; the feeling of him being with her would never go away. She needed a day to recover from the sex. Recover from the emotional connection that kept going deeper with every moment she spent with him, every time they connected with their bodies and more. The day before had been a necessary detour from reality, sex to get her mind off of other things, but now Mikaela needed time and space to get her barriers back in place.

Plus, if those weren't reason enough, there were still boxes of Mikaela's stuff that needed to be unpacked.

Which was why, after the one brief round of morning oh-my-god-I-have-got-to-have-you sex, Mikaela and Sam found themselves at the Lennox homestead for breakfast.

As could be excepted, they were teased mercilessly for their absence the previous day. Epps and Will took great joy in their needling. Viktor teasingly flirted with Mikaela, if only to raise Sam's ire. Sarah and Maggie tried to referee the men, only ended up embarrassing every party involved. Billy again regaled everyone with the terrifying tale of catching Uncle Sam in his boxers and Mikaela in a sheet, which only added more fuel to the teasing fire. Annabelle was no help in that arena, lamenting that she now had to seek counselling for the traumatic experience. Chase inserted bawdy humour that had everyone blushing red, while Haellie took a thankfully more neutral ground- trying to muzzle his wife.

The two recipients of the teasing could only laugh at all the wild and hilarious accusations being tossed their way. Anything that came too close to the truth had them discreetly catching each others' eyes, their cheeks pinked, and they would look away with their own secret smiles on their faces.

No matter how discreet they tried to be, the sharp eyes of their friends never missed a thing. With every meaningful glance, every light brush of their hands, even the surprise kiss Mikaela planted on the side of Sam's mouth, they only served to confirm what everyone already knew. Not only was Sam (still) head over heels for his woman, she was head over heels for him, too. The signs were so obvious, it was almost painful to watch. Something precious and fragile was blooming between them, something that needed to be cherished. To see the soft look that came into Sam's eyes every time he looked at Mikaela, looking better than he ever had in a long time, and to see the same look reflected on Mikaela's face... It was a blessing.

Which was exactly why, as Sam's human friends and family, everyone from Viktor to Billy was damned determined to have Mikaela stay and be a part of the family. They'd all be better for it. Sam and Mikaela especially.

Unfortunately, just because life on base could be held at bay for a little while, didn't mean it stayed away indefinitely.

All too soon, Bumblebee was rolling up outside the open French doors of the Lennox home dinning room. After customary greetings, he regretfully imparted the need for Sam to get on base for a video conference with several prominent military powers. Bumblebee had stalled for as long as he dared to give his friend time with everyone, but now the need was too great to delay any longer. With that directive delivered, there seemed no reason for anyone else to delay the inevitable. Work for the day had to begin. So those who needed to, followed Sam down to see to their own duties.

Despite numerous invitations from Sarah and Maggie to join them in the greenhouses and computer labs, Mikaela chose to stay above ground. If she truly had a desire to go into the subterranean base, it wouldn't be to hang around and get in everyone's way. She'd go down to help Ratchet and relearn everything she forgot over her absence. Her tutoring would have to wait for another day, though. The CMO was currently on high alert for injured Autobots coming after an encounter with some Decepticons. Hence Mikaela staying where the sun shined.

The only other human to be left behind was Chase, who still simmered violently over being barred from work the day earlier. She still howled over not being an invalid, no matter how many times she was assured no one thought of her that way. With a pair of ear plugs and a lot of patience, Mikaela managed to finagle Chase into helping her to the dirty dishes for Sarah. By the time they were stacking them away, Chase was calm enough to offer a proper invitation for Mikaela to hang out with her for the day. It was an offer Mikaela could hardly refuse. Being alone for the day unpacking didn't appeal to her the least. And, according to Chase, why bother unpacking if she was going to leave soon anyways?

There wasn't much for Mikaela to say after that, so she found herself walking to the Hendrix barn-cum-home in Chase's wake.

If anything, there was such a bluntness about Chase that Mikaela couldn't help but like. In a way, she was much like Gloria, in that she didn't put up with bullshit. Familiar territory like that was comforting when everything else felt like it was upside down. Probably one of the reasons Mikaela felt strangely comfortable with the relative stranger.

Yet another reason for the strange comfort was the fact that Chase and Haellie were the ones closest in age to Sam and Mikaela- being 35 and 37 respectively. A certain camaraderie came with having someone to relate to in that respect. Not that the others were much older, ranging in their late forties to early fifties now. Sometimes, though, it was easier to connect with someone young enough to be your sister.

And much unlike the others of the 'main gang', which was what Mikaela was beginning to call the small group of families that surrounded her and Sam, Chase didn't bother to scheme or needle for Mikaela to stay with Sam. If she wanted to say something, she looked Mikaela in the eye and said it baldfaced. For what very little Mikaela knew of the woman, she was beginning to suspect Chase would call out a Decepticon if she were faced down with one. It was oddly refreshing.

Although that oddly refreshing aspect kind of backfired on Mikaela when, upon entering the Hendrix home and having the door shut, Chase pinned her with a look and stated: "So, you're in love with Sam."

* * *

With yet another conference call over and done with, hopefully without any major feathers ruffled, Sam began sorting out the mess he'd made of his desk during the ordeal. And, yes, it had been an _ordeal_. The same way being taken as a prisoner of war was.

Of the three major military powers in the world, America, Russia, and China could act remarkably like a trio of catty teen-aged bitches when they wanted to. Only they were more dangerous, seeing as they had paranoia streaks a mile long and itchy trigger fingers hovering over nuclear buttons. Constantly suspicious of the others and always wanting to stick their noses into Cybertronian business in hopes of picking up some technology that would give them an edge over the competition. Sam, as ambassador between the Cybertronians and his own race, was the lucky guy who got to play mediator between the species. His job only got better (Read: worse) when he had to play referee between the three countries as well.

"The joys of living the dream," Sam sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face.

Notes he'd made throughout the conference were littered across a menagerie of all paper surfaces, including several Russian and Chinese dictionaries he used when trying to understand what the hell was being shouted at him. Viktor thankfully kept him fluent enough in Russian to know when he was being cursed at. Chinese, however, still tripped him up.

Slipping the notes away into an appropriate binder, he made a couple more notes to look into some poignant issues addressed during the session. These notes were then stuck to his computer screen so he wouldn't miss them. Dictionaries were slipped away, pens and pencils returned from whence they came, one potted plant upright once more after having a large textbook thrown at in in a brief stint of America's-representative-being-a-douche induced rage.

Hopping for a little bit of calm, he turned on some music, going for some old soft rock from the 60s and 70s.

Just as he leaned back in his chair in preparation to stare aimlessly at his LCD ceiling for the next thirty minutes in hopes of lowering his blood pressure, a knock sounded at his office door. Sam didn't even bother to tilt his head down to regard his possible company. He didn't say a word. He pretended he wasn't there. It was a futile hope that whoever was on the other side would go away, but still Sam held out hope anyways.

In the end, the door was opened and Haellie stuck his head in.

"Coast is clear?" he asked in a mock-whisper, looking about the room as if the human representatives of the video conference were actually lurking around in the shadows.

"Yeah, you're cool," Sam sighed, waving his friend in.

With a gracious smile, Haellie loped into the room and took up residence in the chair on the other side of the desk. He had a fibre glass tablet tucked under one arm, it's blue screen revealing the specs for whatever latest engineering feat he and his team were cooperating on with Wheeljack and the other technical-minded transformers. By the lively look in his eyes, he had something interesting to say and was just waiting for Sam to invite him to say it.

"Well?" Sam prompted, assuming a laid back pose in his seat, feet braced on the edge of his desk, legs crossed at the ankles.

"Well what?" Haellie replied, smiling wider.

"You came here for a reason, didn't you?" Sam pressed, cocking an eyebrow.

"Didn't I?" Haellie continued to evade, now leaning back in his own chair to mirror Sam's pose. He then placed his tablet in front of him and began to scribble absent notes across the blueprints with a sleek little stylus.

"Man, I will kick your ass if you're just here to bug me," Sam warned.

Haellie guffawed at the threat, even though there was a very good chance Sam could take him out. Instead of goading his friend any longer, Haellie put him out of his misery, saying- "Turns out your woman is with mine today." He added a smile on the end to make the statement seem less like a death sentence.

Sam visibly paled beneath his tan. "Seriously?"

"Yep."

Visions of coming home tonight to a frothing man-eater suddenly came to mind. Chase was a wonderful, strong-minded woman, but hell if she wasn't an Amazon in a past life. It wouldn't be beyond the woman to covert Mikaela to her philosophy. Sam swallowed hard. "How do you know?"

"I have my ways. Mostly, my wife tells me." Haellie tapped a few things on his tablet, bringing up a few texts Chase had sent, and then turning the screen around for Sam. "Take a look." A handful of harassing texts were there to read, including questions regarding whether or not Mikaela would like to live in Queensland or New South Wales, Australia. Several of them openly dared Haellie to ask Sam for his opinion.

A bit of colour came back into Sam's face in the form of an angry flush. "Your woman is a real jewel, you know that?" he growled.

"Yeah, but I love her," Haellie shrugged, making it clear that he cared for little else beyond that fact. He then added for Sam's benefit, "She only does things like this because she knows it gets to you. If you keep giving her a reaction to feed off of, like you do every time, she'll keep doing it. If you stop, she'll stop."

"Tell her she can damn well stop first, because now she's getting personal," Sam said, and then scowled when he realized how much he sounded like he was pouting.

"Sorry, I know she's touching nerves now." Haellie had the grace to at least look a little sheepish as he returned his tablet to his lap. "She's only being extra vindictive right now because she's been barred from work. Helping Mikaela and being mean are all she has to occupy her time right now. You know she doesn't do well sitting around with nothing to do."

"Then do us all a favour and never get her pregnant again," Sam intoned darkly. "My sanity will not survive her being barred from work a second time."

"Pussy. Sanity is for the weak," Haellie joked.

Sam groaned in annoyance. "If I proclaim my weakness, will you go away?"

"No."

"Bastard."

Haellie only grinned wider. "I came here to cheer you up, 'cause I knew you'd be needing it after dealing with the Three Stooges. So here I am, cheering you up."

"You suck at cheering me up so far."

"I haven't been trying yet."

Sam narrowed his gaze. "Start trying."

"Okay, sure, I'll try, but first I have to say something out loud before it drives me nuts."

Sam waited a beat, and then demanded, "Well? Spit it out!"

With an acquiescing shrug, Haellie took a deep breath, looked Sam in the eye, and stated, "You're in love with Mikaela."

* * *

After the initial 'L-word' bombshell had been dropped, Mikaela had been left floundering for solid ground. What was she supposed to say to something like that? Denial was on the tip of her tongue, but it didn't quite make it past her lips. She was spared the bother of answering such a question when three big, black furry bodies suddenly bowled her over and bathed her in slobber. All she could do was flail about until a solid hand caught hers and hauled her to her feet. Chase then barked at her dogs and they turned tail and fled.

"Well?" the woman pressed, one eyebrow arching.

"Well what?" Mikaela stuttered, her cheeks heating.

"You love him, right?"

"I don't know," Mikaela sighed dazedly, even though every fibre of her being screamed _Yes! Yes! Yes!_

"Huh... yeah, right." Chase rolled her eyes and walked away. "Come on, don't just stand there. Australia isn't going to research itself, now is it?"

The sudden change of subject threw Mikaela for a loop. She stared for a moment, and then shrugged. "I guess not."

And that had been it.

For the following hours, they sat in the living room of a gigantic couch big enough to seat a couple of grizzly bears while they poured over as much Australian content as they possibly could. Not that all of it was helpfully, really. Watching old episodes of the Crocodile Hunter and listening to AC/DC probably didn't count for much. However, in between rocking out to tunes like "Back in Black" and laughing at Steve Irwin's crazy antics wrangling some animal, they did work together to try and sort out Mikaela's uncertain future.

So far, they knew that the major cities were too much of a risk; yes, there were a lot of people Mikaela could blend in amongst, but there was too much media. Her face might be caught somewhere she didn't want it to be, posted to YouTube or something like that by accident. It was easier to be as off the grid as possible. Small town, maybe. Some place where she could find peace.

"Okay, how about this place?" Chase offered, clicking the print icon on her laptop for the online brochure she was checking out. On the coffee table in front of them, the wireless printer buzzed to life and spit out the brochure. Mikaela snatched it, gave it a once over, and then shook her head.

"No way."

The paper was tossed into the growing pile of paper to be recycled.

"Why not?" Chase wondered stubbornly.

"It's in the middle of the outback," Mikaela pointed out flatly.

"No it's not, it's only on the very edge," Chase pointed out, indicating to the right panel on the brochure. "I don't think you can own property right in the middle anyways."

"Still, I don't want to live there," Mikaela insisted.

"You gonna give me a reason?"

"I don't want to live in the middle of the outback."

"I said it was on the _edge_," Chase snorted. "Besides, you lived in the middle of the desert with the Vautzes; what's the difference?"

Mikaela's lips compressed into a stubborn line. "I'll be by myself out there, that's the difference."

"Fair enough," Chase sighed, and then went on clicking through various property listings that had potential. Money was no question, so she ran the gamut from shitty hovels to state-of-the-art luxury homes. Whatever caught her fancy.

Mikaela went back to her own laptop, borrowed from Haellie without his knowledge, which Chase had happily lent to her earlier. It was a monster-sized laptop with a 17-inch screen and probably more gigs of RAM than what could possibly be legal. It was certainly an imposing piece of technology, probably containing top secret documents for whatever project the man was working on with the Autobots. However, the imposing nature of the laptop was offset by the desktop wallpaper, which happened to be a photograph of the Hendrix couple standing at the top of a mountain somewhere, both decked out in heavy duty mountaineering gear, with eyes only for each other as they grinned, flushed from excitement over reaching the summit.

Up on the screen currently were various screens depicting various Wikipedia entries she was reading of the different towns she might soon be living in. In several other screens, she was looking up every poisonous animal she might possibly encounter. Given her unlucky streak for encountering dangerous creatures, since she counted Decepticons as _Very. Dangerous. Creatures, _she was most likely going to encounter everything that would kill her. Probably all on her first day being there, too.

Chase's cell phone suddenly chirped, announcing an incoming text. She shifted to sit up, her cheeks turning ruddy when she had difficulty bending forward around her rounded belly for her phone.

"Here, I'll get it," Mikaela offered, sparing the other woman any further embarrassment. The phone was scooped up and handed to the owner, who flipped it open and laughed.

"Haellie," she said for Mikaela, her smirk fond and humoured as she read the text. "He suggests we skip Australia all together and look at New Zealand instead."

"Why?" Mikaela dared to ask.

The phone chirped again, as if in answer to her question. Chase snorted as she read the new message. "He says prostitution is decriminalized and brothels are legal there."

"That's... charming."

"He's charming when he wants to be." Chase dragged her gaze from the top of Mikaela's head to the tips of her toes. "You gotta admit, you're pretty hot. You'd make a fortune being a whore."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome." Her phone chirped again, and her grin turned Cheshire. "Sam says if you dare become a hooker, he'll buy your contract so you can be his hooker for the rest of your life. He doesn't care how expensive you are."

Mikaela crossed her eyes, her cheeks staining pink. "I don't know whether I should be insulted that everyone thinks I'd make a good prostitute or flattered that Sam would make the effort to buy me."

"Be flattered," Chase offered, her fingers flying across the keys to type her response.

"Why?"

"Because that's what I just told him you were," Chase laughed, pressing send.

* * *

Sam stared at his phone, reading the message that just came in. He wasn't sure if he could trust Chase's words or not.

"What she say?" Haellie prompted from the seat he had refused to vacate all day. Ever since that wonderfully loud 'L-word' statement he'd made, he hadn't bothered to leave. While Sam was man enough to admit he was in love with Mikaela, he'd even said it out loud a couple times before, having it thrown in his face so boldly kind of struck him dumb. After the trauma, Haellie had boldly proceeded to cheer Sam up by keeping a running commentary of the texts his wife was supplying them with. Most of them stopped being vindictive, just describing what the two women were doing at the moment, and it actually did serve to cheer Sam up a bit.

While Haellie didn't leave the office for his own work- seeing as all his work was downloaded to his tablet- he was good enough to leave Sam to his own work for the majority of the day. They worked in companionable silence, ploughing through their respective mountains of work. It was only when Haellie started texting Chase again that Sam looked up from his work, subsequently getting involved when he learnt the topic of discussion.

"Says she'd be happy to be my hooker," Sam replied, a little dazedly.

"Who? Chase?" Haellie wondered, eyebrows arching.

"No, Mikaela," Sam corrected, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, huh... well, ask her how much to pay for her?" Haellie prompted.

"Why? Looking to buy here, too?"

"No. I want to tell Viktor," Haellie replied, grinning. "I'm sure he'd love to have a shot at her."

"Do it, I dare you. All I need is one little reason to kick your ass, and then I'll kick Ashcroft's ass," Sam growled, thumbing the phone's keys to send his response. "There, I asked how much." Moments later came the reply, which Sam stared at for a long while, his mouth pursed.

Curious, Haellie sat up. "Too rich for your blood?"

"She said it'll cost me an arm and a leg," Sam said, then looked down at his one human arm. "I've only got one arm left."

Haellie shrugged, considering the price with a modicum of mock-seriousness. "You love your woman, right?"

"Right."

"Then it's worth it."

"True."

Bolstered by the mini pep talk, Sam returned the text with an assurance that he would pay with any body parts necessary. That only served to blow up in his face when Chase merrily replied with a highly embarrassing and disturbingly graphic demand on the one body part Sam was most unwilling to part with. This was quickly followed by a barrage of rapidly typed, horribly misspelled texts from Mikaela, who presumably had stolen Chase's phone, pleading for Sam not to give up _that_ body part. She was rather fond of it. If anything, he could pay in instalments, granting use of his body parts whenever she saw fit, however she saw fit. Sam didn't see much point in arguing such a fine business deal.

Soon after that, there came a knock at the door and the Autobot's communication officer Blaster, standing only a little over six feet tall, came in. Normally an amiable bot, he looked unusually awkward coming into the office. He had one hand to the side of his head, unscrewing his audio dial and shaking it out as if he could dump out whatever was stuck in his head.

"Something the matter?" Sam wondered, rising from his seat.

"Um, sort of, I mean- not really, it's just..." the little Autobot shrugged, screwing his audio dial back in. "You do remember that since we're completely off the grid, all phone and text messages are routed through me, right?"

The two humans stopped dead, their cheeks staining pink.

Seeing the display, Blaster shook his head. "That's what I thought. Try and keep is PG-13 for future reference, will you?" He backed out of the room and let the door close behind him.

Haellie cleared his throat as soon as the Autobot was gone, casting Sam a humoured look. "That was slightly embarrassing."

"You think?"

"You think he sent a warning to the girls, too?"

Sam shook his head. "If he did, Chase would probably be assaulting us with texts that could make a porn star blush."

"That woman has a talent for talking dirty when she's in the mood," Haellie agreed sagely, clearing speaking from experience.

They caught each others' eyes and laughed. When they quieted, Sam was hunched over his desk, elbows braced on the desktop while his chin sat on his upraised hands. Haellie absently clicked through a few things on his tablet screen, but didn't pay them much mind.

"Hey, Hael- what if she really does go?" Sam suddenly intoned, now subdued. "What if I can't convince her to stay?"

"Mikaela?"

Sam nodded.

"You're not willing to let her go, are you?" Haellie asked softly.

"If our roles were reversed, could you give up Chase?" Sam met his friend's gaze, his dark eyes clear with simmering emotion.

"No, never." His answer was automatic and sincere.

"And I can't give up Mikaela. Not again," Sam sighed.

"What will you do, then?"

The answer didn't come easily. For a little while, it looked like Sam was struggling with it. In the end, his shoulders sagged and he said, "If she leaves... I'm going to go with her."

For a moment, Haellie's expression turned surprised, then morphed into understanding. "If that's what you've got to do, go for it."

Now it was Sam's turn to be stunned by such quick encouragement. "You really think I should?"

Haellie nodded. "You gotta do what you think is right."

"Being with her is right." Sam scrubbed a rough palm across his face. "There's just so much work here to do, though..."

"And there are enough people here to do it." The other man waved a russet-skinned hand. "You've always done things yourself because you don't want others handling it, but maybe it's time you start letting others help you. You're going to have to let others do your job if you leave, and even if you get Mikaela to stay, you can still give us a little trust to do some of your jobs for you. You're a good man, Sam, but you can't carry the weight of the world by yourself."

Sam nodded, his gaze pensive as he stared down at his phone.

Haellie leaned across the desk to clasp Sam's shoulder, drawing the man's gaze up. "Don't start packing just yet, okay? You still have time to convince Mikaela that this is where she belongs."

Sam's smile was a little strained as he asked, "You think I can pull it off?"

"You can see it in her eyes, Sam. She has feelings for you, but she's afraid. Any sane person would be after everything she's been through. But you wanna know what vibe I'm getting from her? She looking for more reasons to stay than she is hoping for reasons to go."

Sam sucked in a hopeful breath, letting it out slowly. Did he dare to hope? "It doesn't make things any easier that your woman is practically pushing mine out the door."

Haellie chuckled, shaking his head. "Chase wants to see you happy as much as anyone else, but she does things her way. I'm willing to bet she's working her own angle right now, even if it doesn't seem like it."

Sam's expression turned wry. "So long as Mikaela doesn't end up as as an Australian or New Zealand prostitute, I don't care."

Haellie grinned. "Sorry, buddy, that was kind of my suggestion."

* * *

Noting the time, Mikaela was surprised to find that the day had gone by so quickly. It was already going on 6:30 and it still felt like noon to her.

Chase seemed to have noticed the time as well, since she snorted and frowned lightly. "Typical- late again," she sighed. "I guess I'm stuck doing dinner." Heaving her laptop to the side, she eased to her feet with a groan. Her hands smoothed down her rounded belly, grimacing. "Little bugger doesn't stop kicking me. See? Feel this." Without warning, Mikaela's hand was snagged and set to Chase's belly. Beneath her palm, she felt little fluttering kicks and bumps. There was a very active baby doing somersaults in there.

"Are you due soon?" Mikaela wondered, taking her hand back.

"Any day now, I guess," Chase shrugged.

"Excited?"

For a second, unease crossed the woman's face. "Terrified." Then her unease was gone, shaken off and stuffed away. "Right now, I have got to go pee. And then I will start dinner."

She wandered off for the bathroom while Mikaela waited in the kitchen, feeling strangely at home in the open concept space. No matter where she seemed to go on base, she felt at home, actually. Only a few days here already and she felt like she was settling into the rhythm of things and becoming a part of it.

A long, deep sigh breathed along her thigh, startling her from her thoughts. Looking down, Mikaela discovered Bear, Dog, and Rotten staring up at her with big, brown dog eyes. How such sweet dogs ended up with such names, she didn't want to know. Smiling indulgently to the giant brutes, she stroked each of their heads and watched as doggy-smiles of contentment stretched their wide faces.

"What do you think, boys- Australia or New Zealand?" she asked softly.

The droopy-faced Newfoundlander heaved himself up in order to drag his wet tongue over the length of Mikaela's face.

"That is so gross," Mikaela playfully admonished, which the two Rottweilers apparently took as an invitation to drag their own tongues across Mikaela's slimed face. One of them wuffed gently, nudging her with a velvet-soft muzzle.

"Even you three think I should stay, huh?" she laughed, wiping her face with the collar of her shirt.

"Dogs know when someone is part of a pack," intoned Chase, back from the bathroom. She wiped her hands down the front of her maternity jeans, coming into the kitchen. With a short whistle, her dogs came to her, each to receive a fond pat and scratch behind the ears. "They think you're part of this pack."

Mikaela appraised the beasts carefully before lifting her gaze to other woman's. "Do they really think I'm part of their pack?"

Chase shrugged. "They're smart dogs." She said no more as she came deeper into the kitchen, dragging this and that out. Random ingredients. She was no chef, but she managed to follow the directions on the backs of boxes relatively well. Every time Mikaela got up to help, she was shooed back to her seat. It was obviously a pride thing that prevented the other woman from accepting help. AC/DC was still playing in the background, filling the house with the rocking tunes of "Highway to Hell". Mikaela simply allowed herself to drift off, not realizing she was staring until she was called out on it.

"If you keep staring at me, you're going to give me a complex."

"Sorry," Mikaela laughed, dutifully looking away.

"You wanna ask me something?" Chase prompted, having read the look on Mikaela's face right. "I get the feeling you've been thinking."

"It's just..." She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you needed help." It was as simple as that.

Mikaela shook her head. "No, I mean- I thought everyone wanted me to stay, and here you are helping me leave. What's up with that?"

Chase's dark eyes glinted as she tossed a smirking look over her shoulder. "You make it sound like you don't want to leave. Thinking of staying, are you?"

"I- it's not... I just want to understand. Yesterday you were like everyone else- saying I'd stay, and today you've done everything to help me leave. I don't get it."

"I never said anything about you staying. I said Sam has his sights set on you and he's not going to let you go without a fight," Chase corrected her, hacking away at vegetables. "That, if you haven't noticed, is a fact. He'd hold you tight with both arms if he could."

Mikaela pressed a hand to her chest, feeling as her heart fluttered in her chest. "Then why help me leave, if you know Sam wants me so badly?"

"I'm not about to force you to do anything you don't want. You say you don't want to stay, so I'm helping you leave. If you wanted to stay, I'd help you do that, too." With one last chop to a pile of hacked up carrots, Chase turned around to lean against the counter and regard Mikaela with a crooked smile. "Besides, if Sam wants you, he'll work for you. You're worth the effort. Australia or not, he's the kind of guy to do whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes, huh? I'd believe that," Mikaela said ruefully. .

Chase canted her head, black eyes softening. "If you go, he'd go with you."

That caught Mikaela's attention, her heart fluttering. "He wouldn't leave his work behind."

"No? I bet he would." A knife was waved as Chase tried to make her point. "I'm not a romantic person by a long shot, but the way he looks at you, it's like there's no one else in the room. He'd follow you in a heartbeat. I think he'd give this all up."

A frown pulled at the corners of Mikaela's mouth, her chest tightening a little. "I don't want to take him away from here, though. You guys, the Autobots, you're his friends and family."

"So? You could be his everything. Can you say the same?"

Mikaela shifted in her seat. "What do you mean?"

"Would you give up a boring normal life in order to have everything you never dreamed of?" Chase asked lightly, turning back around to start hacking away at her next vegetable-victim. "You could have everything, too, you know? If you were willing to take a chance."

_Everything. _Mikaela let the thought float around in her head, warmed and frightened it. Never, in all her life, had she ever really considered having "everything". She had more of a survival outlook on life, getting by on the essentials. Doing the least risky things. Dating Sam and being part of an alien war sixteen years ago had been the riskiest thing she'd ever done. It had been her most heartbreaking risk. And the most rewarding. According to Chase, who seemed to know what she was talking about, Sam was prepared to give up everything for her. Was she woman enough to do the same for him...?

Movement just over her shoulder startled her. Haellie's immense form came into sight, creeping along quieter than what Mikaela would have thought possible for such a big man. He caught her eye for a moment, shared a warm smile, before he crept up on his wife. His arms came around her, drawing her to his body. Chase's surprise was evident in the way she jumped, hissed, and nearly stabbed her husband's hands with the knife she was wielding.

"Whoa there, sweetheart, just me," he murmured, his amusement evident in his deep voice.

"Who says I wouldn't stab you anyways?" Chase snorted, irked to have been surprised.

Mikaela watched the scene with a twinge of guilt prickling at her. Voyeurism had never been to her taste, but now she found her eyes hungry to watch the scene unfold. Chase may have been over six feet tall, yet she was dwarfed next to her husband. He was big and broad, strength evident in every coiled muscle, contrasted by the ultimate gentleness he exuded. His hands settled on Chase's protruding belly, shaping his large palms over the flesh, holding her as if she were a precious treasure. He laid a kiss to the hollow where her neck met shoulder. The deep rumble of his voice filled the air, though his words were muffled by Chase's skin.

In that moment, a deep ache came to life in Mikaela's heart. A taint of sad jealousy. She wanted something like that. She wanted someone who could hold her, hug and kiss her.

A deep breath in brought with it a familiar scent, just as a pair of arms came around her from behind. A pair of lips pressed just behind her ear, softly rumbled words flooding heat through her body-

"_Hey, beautiful." _

A gasp erupted from Mikaela, quickly stifled as Sam leaned around and pressed his mouth to hers. When he pulled away, there was a smile decorating both their lips.

"Miss me?" he teased.

"Maybe," she breathed.

Sam's eyes softened, his arms coming around her as if he had read her mind and knew what she craved. Mikaela came into the embrace of his body without hesitation, absorbing the heat, revelling in it.

"I got off work at a half-decent time," he intoned, quirking a half-smile.

"You're improving," Mikaela hummed, rewarding him with a tender smile, leaning against him and breathing in his wonderful scent. Was this what she really hungered for? The calm contentedness of being held. Cherished. Knowing someone... loved you.

Someone cleared their throat. It turned out to be Haellie, his arms still around Chase, his chin resting on her shoulder. He met Mikaela's gaze and smiled handsomely for her.

"Do you want to stay?" he asked, which had her eyes widening, wondering if he had read her mind. Seeing her expression, amusement lit his eyes. "For dinner, I mean," he amended.

"Oh," Mikaela breathed, laughing a little. She glanced to Sam, who waited patiently for her answer, content to follow her lead, and then to Chase, whose smirk was both encouraging and challenging. Finally she met Haellie's gaze again and smiled sincerely "Sure, I'd love to stay."

For dinner, and maybe longer.


End file.
